


In Solemn Silence

by chinupdrownslow



Category: Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: M/M, TW: Self Harm, TW: Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:18:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinupdrownslow/pseuds/chinupdrownslow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Vic, you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t hold the pain for everybody.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Find Comfort In Anger

Kellin cracked open the door slightly, peering into the darkness of the room. He stepped into the cool shadows with the coffee mug balanced precariously between his fingers. He gently closed the door, and then padded lightly across the carpeted floor towards the bed.

            Vic had fallen off the bed at some point during the night, which was obvious to Kellin. He was curled under the foot of the bed, covers dangling over the sides and brushing his legs and back. He had huddled into himself, pulling the big hoodie he wore tighter around his chest and tucking his legs in, rocking back and forth.

            Sighing, Kellin put the mug down onto the bedside table. He hadn’t slept at last night, or at all in the past days. It was unlike him to get a few more hours of sleep at night. But with Vic snuggled against his side and engulfing him in familiar warmth, Kellin found it easier to slip into unconsciousness. But he had found it harder to fall into oblivion when Vic struggled and fought against his own memories at night. He couldn’t sleep when his light was troubled, nor did he want to until he could help him.

            Vic thrashed on the ground, eyes still closed, oblivious to the world.

            “Stop… please,” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Dried tears were evident on his face. His hands gripped the fabric of the carpet tightly as he flailed around desperately on the carpet.

            “Stop… it’s not…help,” he continued to talk in distress and anguish.

            Kellin gnawed on his lower lip, stumbling down to his knees to where Vic continued to rock himself in nightmares. He gathered his hands around the small of Vic’s back and around his knees, collecting him into a carry. Vic tensed and thrashed, his words becoming louder and frantic.

            “Let go! Stop…it’s not…no…fault,” Vic’s shrieks became more pronounced as he twisted away from Kellin’s torso.

            “Vic, Vic, come on, it’s just me,” Kellin whispered into Vic’s neck, moving his hand up from his waist to his hair, gently stroking his hair.

            Vic didn’t come into consciousness. He continued to thrash and beat against Kellin’s torso, his yells becoming louder.

            Kellin gathered him closer, putting his head on Vic’s shoulder, kissing the side of his head. His hands brushed the sides of Vic’s face, tracing lines along his jaw. Vic’s struggles seemed to weaken slightly, but he still pressed palms against Kellin’s chest, trying to push away. Their legs were tangled together on the floor and Vic just couldn’t seem to get them apart.

            “Come on, Vic, it’s just me, wake up, please,” Kellin muttered, stroking his face. Vic tensed slightly, eyes crushing themselves closed.

            Vic’s breathing slowed, but his shoulders were still arched in that way that Kellin knew Vic was still on guard.

            “Kellin?” He whispered, resting his hands on Kellin’s chest. Kellin still had a hand under Vic’s knees, one on the back of his head, making soothing strokes along his neck and jaw.

            Kellin was sitting cross-legged with a calming down Vic in his lap. He sighed and whispered back  “Yeah, it’s me. I got you” before standing up with Vic still in his arms. His legs cracked but his arms didn’t give way. Kellin had noticed the way Vic’s bones seemed to be more pronounced, like how when they were curled up next to each other, Vic’s hipbone was prominent against Kellin’s stomach. He had noticed the way his fingers had gotten slender and his jaw line jutting out from his cheek and neck. And from having carried him multiple times, whether he be passed out drunk or fallen asleep on the couch watching an old re-run of CSI, it was evident that Vic had lost weight.

            He placed Vic down gently onto the bed, carefully laying his head onto the pillow. He picked up the covers that had half fallen off the bed and lay them across Vic, who still seemed to have trouble gathering his senses. Placing his hands onto either side of Vic’s head, Kellin bent down and kissed his forehead, brushing loose strands of hair out of his eyes.

            Vic reached out from behind the barrier of the covers to grab onto the tee that was sagging off his chest. His eyes flickered slightly, but didn’t open.

            “Kellin?”

            “Yeah?” Kellin whispered, leaning down closer so their noses were touching.

            Vic’s hand traced up across his shoulder.

            “Stay with me?”

            “Of course,” Kellin whispered, climbing properly onto the bed and rolling beside Vic. Crawling under the covers, he huddled closer to Vic. Vic instinctively curled towards him, wrapping one of his legs around Kellin’s hips and legs, placing his arms around his neck. And Kellin smiled, happy at the touch and the familiar warmth. Vic smacked his lips and drew in a breezy breath.

            And Kellin basked in the moment. Because with Vic being still and curled into him, he knew he could fall asleep.

 

***

 

            When Kellin woke up, the press and heat that had been so close to him was gone. He took a moment to regain his senses before sitting up, the covers bunching at his waist. Vic’s side of the bed was empty and the door had been left open a crack. Bright light seeped through cracks in the curtains and Kellin blinked the sleep out of his eyes, adjusting to the light.

            Sweeping the covers aside, Kellin got out of bed and padded lightly across the floor. The coffee that Kellin had intended to drink had gone cold and he picked up the mug as he grabbed the doorknob.

            “Are you sure there haven’t been any changes?” Vic’s irritated voice sounded from outside and Kellin froze, his hand still in a slight turn on the knob.

            Pause.

            “There has to have been something! It’s been three days!”

            Pause.

            “Why can’t I see him? Please, he’s my brother for god’s sake!” Vic’s voice reached a yell and Kellin decided that to be the moment to step out from the shadows of the bedroom. He couldn’t have picked a worse time.

            Vic slammed the phone down on the table, making stray cups and glasses rattle against each other. In a fit of rage, he grabbed the nearest mug and heaved it towards the opposite wall. The impact made it shatter musically.

            Vic tore at his hair and picked up another mug and threw it on the floor at his feet. He could hear the sharp intake of break and the small whimpers that escaped Vic’s lips.

            Kellin let out a small gasp, but it was still audible enough for Vic to hear, and his head snapped towards the crack in the door where Kellin waited.

            “Kellin?”

            Kellin stepped out from behind the door, walking silently towards the kitchen. He placed the cold mug in the sink before grabbing the first aid kit that they kept under the sink. He walked back into the living room, sighing as he looked at the mess that lay scattered on the floor.

            “Sit,” Kellin said firmly, indicating the dining room chair.

            “Kellin-“

            “Just sit, Vic, okay?” He muttered. His voice was tired and worn out. He couldn’t keep condoling Vic but he had too. His candle was burning low and Kellin was desperate to feed it.

            Vic sat down on the wooden chair, his hair falling in tangled masses on his shoulders. He looked down at his leg where blood was oozing without pause. A sharp piece of porcelain dug into his skin and the tip stood out, white against red.

            “Vic, babe, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch. But you’re going to be okay. Okay?” Kellin said, leaning down onto the bits of shattered glass that lay scattered across the floor. Thank god for jeans.

            Looking up at Vic, Kellin saw Vic pinch his wrist and bite his lip. He nodded when he noticed Kellin’s wide eyes looking up at him, bracing himself.

            He dug around the first aid box for the tweezers, and feeling the cool metal on his skin, he placed his hand on the side of Vic’s calf. Steadying Vic’s leg, Kellin carefully plucked the edge of the porcelain with the tweezers. He slowly pulled the shard out of Vic’s leg, with each bit blood rushing out of the wound and in a steady red-hot stream.

            Vic tensed as the porcelain edged its way out with Kellin’s handy work. Kellin heard Vic’s barely audible gasps each time the shard escaped Vic’s skin and tissue. When he finally pulled it out, Vic breathed in sharply, bringing his shoulders up to his ears.

            “You okay?” Kellin looked up at Vic as he placed the tweezers and glass onto the table.

            Vic merely nodded and pinched his wrist harder. Kellin narrowed his eyes disapprovingly but couldn’t think of a better way to relieve the pain. He didn’t like what Vic did, and Vic knew that. So Vic had stopped and Vic had been happy for months now and that made Kellin happy. But he couldn’t shake off the feeling that Vic had given in to a deadly addiction that had near ruined his life.

            Kellin stood and ground his teeth together at the crunch of glass under his feet. He hauled Vic out of his chair and towards the bathroom. Vic was stumbling over his own feet, weak with dying rage and aches in body and heart.

            Kellin ran the tap in the bath, testing it out. It was slightly cold, but they didn’t have time.

            “Strip, now.” Kellin barked at him, running back out into the hall to retrieve contents from the first aid kit.

            Kellin fumbled over the knocked over items and discarded magazines, grabbing the case. He quickly made his way back to the bathroom.

            Placing the kit on the counter, he turned around. Much to his annoyance, Vic stood there, completely unchanged from where he left him, except his leg was now completely covered in scarlet blood.

            “Now!” Kellin yelled at him, knocking over bottles of lotion and shampoo as he fumbled for a towel.

            Nervously, Vic pulled down his shorts until he was standing naked from the waist down besides his briefs.

            Turning around, Kellin tucked the towel under his arm and twisted at the hem of Vic’s hoodie, but Vic hugged his arms close and shook his head.

            “Fine, don’t take it off, just get in the tub,” Kellin said, pushing at the small of Vic’s back with one hand while reaching for the alcohol with the other.

            Kellin pushed Vic down into the tub and grabbed at the towel still wedged between his arms. He turned around to see Vic huddled against himself against the cold water, shivering in the oversized hoodie that made him look undeniably small and weak. Kneeling beside the bathtub, Kellin gingerly removed Vic’s right leg from his chest and brought it out under the water. The water against wound made Vic flinch and he removed his hands from his thigh and dug the nails into his palms.

            “Kellin, stop!”

            “What?”

            “It fucking hurts!” Vic cried, twisting his leg in Kellin’s grip.

            “I told you it was gonna fucking hurt, okay, just calm down so I can just clean it.”

            Vic’s breaths were shallow and quick, eyes closed against the pain. Kellin turned the tap off and dabbed at the still bleeding wound with a cotton swab.

            “Give me your hand, Vic, because if you thought that hurt before than this one is gonna be hell.” With his eyes still closed, Vic reached out and Kellin took Vic’s hand in his. He opened the bottle of alcohol with his teeth and remaining hand, careful to not completely release his grip on Vic’s hand as he poured it onto the swab.

            As soon as the alcohol touched the wound, Vic made a hiss and pulled back, but Kellin held him firmly.

            “Fuck, Kellin, take the god damned thing off!” He shrieked.

            “I’ve got to clean it first, Vic, or it’ll get fucking infected,” Kellin mouthed through a cotton swab, tightening his grip on Vic’s hand.

            He swiped the alcohol over and around the wound, Vic squirming in his grip. It had mostly stopped bleeding but still small pinpricks of blood managed to rise and fall down his tan legs.

            Releasing his grip on Vic’s hand, Kellin turned around to reach for a bandage. He groped for the biggest one, and it was barely large enough to cover the cut. Unwrapping the bandage, Kellin placed it over the cut and Vic winced.

            “There, done. You can get up now.” Kellin said, standing up and extending a hand to Vic, who took it and got out of the bath, his back completely soaked.

            After draining the tub, Kellin looked at Vic. Vic was sitting on the ground, knees crossed and head looking down at his lap, ashamed. Kellin kneeled down and placed his hands on either side of Vic’s head, kissing his forehead softly.

            “Are you okay?” He whispered.

            Vic nodded and wiped his sleeve along his eyes. He lifted his head up to look in Kellin’s bright blue eyes and immediately looked back down, as if the stare was too intense to hold.

            “I’m so sorry, Kellin,” Vic sobbed, hugging himself closer to give himself comfort. Kellin wrapped his arms around Vic’s shoulders and neck, sheltering him against the flush heat of his body.

            “I’m so, so, fucking sorry,” He repeated burying his head in the crook of his knees and arms.

            “I’m so goddamn sorry, Kellin,”

            “Stop saying that!” Kellin exclaimed. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for!”

            Vic pulled his head out of his lap. “What do you mean I’ve got nothing to be sorry for?” he yelled back at Kellin. “Mike’s in hospital and it’s all my fucking fault!”

            “It’s not your fault, Vic,” Kellin said, trying to level out his voice.

            “We both know that’s not true,” Vic susurrated.

            “Listen to me, Vic,” Kellin began, but seeing Vic’s face turned towards the ground, Kellin reached out and cupped both sides of his face in his hands and lifted his chin up. “Listen to me, Vic, it wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for this,”

            Vic pressed his palms against the backs of Kellin’s hands, gently releasing their grip on his face. “But I can. I’m his older brother, Kel, I’m responsible.”

            Sighing, Kellin leaned back; still holding Vic’s hands in his own and squeezed them tightly, demanding Vic’s attention.

            “Vic, you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t hold the pain for everybody.”

            And Vic nodded in agreement, but still he couldn’t help thinking of the blades he was keeping hidden and how nice it would feel to relieve some stress and suffering with a swipe of a cool metal kiss.


	2. To Find Clarity In The Past

By the time Kellin got home from recording it was around 5 o’clock. Opening the door to the apartment, Kellin had expected to be greeted by a forced homebound Vic, but he was greeted with silence.  


Sighing, he dug around in his pockets, searching for his phone. He grasped it and punched in Vic’s number. He knew it off by heart.  


‘Hey, you’ve reached Vic’s voicemail, um, get back to you when I can, leave a message after the tone.’  
“Hey, um, Vic, where are you? Haven’t heard from you all day and you were supposed to stay home, um, call me, okay?” The tone sounded and Kellin flipped his phone shut.  


Kellin walked through the living room and sat down on the couch, examining the bits of paper and stray mugs left lying on the coffee table. Envelopes were stacked high. Vic must have collected the mail, as the envelopes with VIC FUENTES written on them had been ripped and were now empty.  
The mail that had his name on it was not worth answering and from foreign addresses, so Kellin ignored the envelopes, now bright in his ignorance. He grabbed at the envelope that he knew would contain some sort of bill, and felt around the table for a pen. Without looking to where he was reaching, Kellin knocked over a book of some sort. It fell to the carpet with a soft thud.  


Exasperated, Kellin reached down to pick it up. He examined the book, considering its value. Not having any recognition of it, he placed it back onto the table.  
Kellin ran a hand through his hair. He was annoyed and frustrated at everything. At life.  
He was annoyed at the stupid pen for being so well hidden. He was annoyed at the landlord for refusing to fix the sink while he had ‘other plans’. He was annoyed at Jesse for messing up his strings and making them rerecord countless times. He was annoyed at Vic for being so broken and upset, but above all, he was annoyed at himself for not being able to do anything about it.  


He hated seeing the one person who had brought him out of his dark stupor so upset and in pain. The smile that Vic usually had plastered to his lips was gone but only there when Kellin asked if he was okay. He either refused the food or would eat very little, and the toll this was having on his body was becoming evident.

Early into the relationship, Vic had caught him using. Fuck, it was so long ago; Kellin didn’t even remember what he had been using. It had been a combination of depressants and strong liquor to ease his head and pain and thoughts of everything bad that just had seemed to consume him in darkness.  


Vic had been angry, of course, but he was concerned. He had come home with Kellin and tore apart his apartment, finding stashes of drugs, both pill and powder and some even injectable. His love for the high and free feeling overcame his fear of sharp things and from using them so much he didn’t even care when it came to shots of medication and blood donations.  


Every single ounce was taken from their domain and put in a plastic bag that Vic had found lying around. He had opened the window in Kellin’s living room and dropped it out. Down it went from the 19th floor of the apartments onto the pavement outside. He could hear the glass crack and the shrieks of pedestrians. Looking down the window, Kellin’s eyes had begun to water as it rained and poured on the only thing that gave him the ecstasy and a bittersweet escape.  
He needed something to pull him out, to be his candle in the swallowing shadows. And it took him a few weeks, maybe even a month, before deciding it was going to be Vic.  


But not soon after, Kellin had discovered Vic’s addiction. And there were countless arguments about whose addiction was worse. There were many nights when Kellin would wake up shaking and pleading and sweating and would grab at the drawers beside his bed for a joint or needle. But the drawers were empty and his addiction was taking a heavy toll on his body. Withdrawal or something, he thought it was called.  


But Vic’s addiction had been so different that Kellin wasn’t even sure if they could compare it to each other’s. Where Kellin’s addiction was for calming himself and taking away the pain, Vic’s was the complete opposite.  


Kellin had found out the first night he had slept over at Vic’s. They hadn’t done anything; just lie next to each other, comforted by each other’s warmth. And Vic slept in his arms and Kellin no matter what could not sleep. His insomnia came with the withdrawal.  


Vic always wore these hoodies that made him look frail and tiny. Kellin didn’t say anything, but in the late summer heat he knew it couldn’t be comfortable. Vic would often scratch at his arms and thighs, pulling on the fabric.  


Even as he slept, Vic was wearing a hoodie. But while Kellin’s eyes grew heavy with fatigue, he had felt Vic shuffle against his body. He had kept stretching the sleeves and rolling them up, curling around Kellin’s chest. While Vic was still asleep, Kellin had propped him up against his chest, sitting him up before managing to pull the hoodie up over his head without waking him. After tossing the hoodie to the side, Vic slumped against him and curled his hand around the loose shirt Kellin had worn. He had considered taking it off because Vic’s air conditioning was broken and he had almost sweated through it, but he didn’t know where Vic would stand with that. So even though there was another body flushed with summer heat against his, Kellin had sucked it up and lay there in the still night, only disturbed by Vic’s breathing.  


After hours of lying down and still not being able to sleep, Kellin shuffled around so Vic was lying on the bed instead of on top of him. He had made his way down the hall and to the bathroom, desperate to find aspirin or sleeping pills or something to make him sleep or make the pounding headache go away.  


He had felt around the mirror, as he had a mirror at home that opened to reveal a cabinet, and managed to pry the mirror away from the wood backing. The cabinet inside was nearly empty, its content sparse. He had felt around for a bottle of anything really, and inhaled sharply when his finger pricked something sharp. Kellin stood on his tiptoes, trying to see what had cut his finger in the dim light.  


Assorted blades decorated the shelf in a cool metallic glow. Some had been removed from razors; others had still been clutched in a plastic hold. He inspected each one. Most were caked in dried blood at the edges, some with dead skin flaking on the sides. Clumsy in the early morning, Kellin had knocked a few of them down into the soap scum water of the sink. The water shook then stilled. The color began to change as the dried blood mixed with the water. It was a sort of orange-red that had looked absolutely terrifying and gross and Kellin barely made it to the toilet before puking up his dinner.  


After being able to do nothing but dry heave, Kellin stood up and wiped his mouth with his bare arm. He flushed the contents of his stomach and what Kellin had sworn must have been some of his stomach lining down the toilet and stood over the sink, turning his head and draining the water. The blades remained in the sink, their silver gleam almost inviting but filled with deceit.  


Kellin had found a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured it on some tissue paper. He picked each blade up gingerly and cleaned it, orange and red streaks decorating the tissue. After each blade was cleaned, he had placed them back on their rightful shelf. Looking carefully now, he found a bottle in the back corner. He took three pills, his aching head slowly easing.  


He remembered taking the bottle back with him to Vic’s room and placing it on the dresser. He had stared at Vic, curled on top of the covers, bathed in a moonlit spotlight. He had crawled over, hovering over Vic and gently taking one of Vic’s hands in his. He inspected the wrist. It was covered in scabs and ghosts of past scars, a form of grotesque artwork up and down the boy’s arms. It had been the same for the other arm. Each one a patchwork of marks and bruises and brown-red scabs that lined his arms and wrists.  


He had placed Vic’s arms down by his sides, not knowing of what to do.  


It was clear he had to confront him.  


So he did the next morning.  


Early the next morning, Kellin had walked into the kitchen to make coffee. He was aware of the contents in Vic’s fridge, or well the lack of them, and went out to the café down the block for pastries and actual coffee.  


By the time Kellin had come back with some croissants and a French roast he knew Vic loved, Vic was awake and standing in the kitchen.  


“Hey, sorry,” Kellin had said, twisting his head to give Vic a quick peck on the cheek. “I went out to get breakfast and coffee.”  


Kellin had placed the bag and Styrofoam cups of coffee and headed back into the room. Vic sat down on one of the island stools, sipping daintily at the coffee and smiling as the caffeine made a home in his veins. He had ripped off the tape of the paper bag and dug out one of the croissants.  


When Kellin had returned, shoeless and jacketless, he had stood several feet away from Vic, quietly observing. He hadn’t been the best at confrontations, and heck, he still wasn’t.  


“Vic,” Kellin started, running a hand through his hair.  


“Mm? Vic sounded, chewing through the pastry.  


“Um, well, okay, Vic this is going to sound,” Kellin sighed, pacing slightly. “Absolutely strange, but, um, do you cut?”  


Vic had coughed, choking on his food a little. His gaze had snapped to Kellin’s almost immediately. He stared wide-eyed at Kellin. “What?”  


“Vic, you heard me,” Kellin said, leaning against the couch. Vic had turned around in his stool, his back to the island.  


“No, I don’t,” Vic had said in an even voice. He had turned his gaze down, suddenly interested in the pattern of his socks.  


“Vic-“  


“Look, Kellin, if you already knew the answer, why did you ask?”  


Kellin buried his head in his hands. He wiped at the crust under his eyes. “I don’t know, Vic, I guess I just wanted to hear it from you.”  


“Why? You had already made the assumptions, so why ask if you already knew?”  


“I just didn’t want to seem like I was invading your privacy, for Christ’s sake. God, you’re so fucking closed all the time I’d be surprised if I even knew what your favorite food is,” Kellin had snapped at him.  


“Well, gee, I’m fucking sorry I’m not some fucking open book for you to read and know everything about. Sorry I’m not fucking wearing my god damn heart on my sleeve.”  


“Vic-“  


“Get the fuck out of my house.”  


And Kellin had silently grabbed his stuff and left.

It took two days for Vic to call him and tell him everything.

So now Kellin sat by the coffee table in their apartment, a year later, afraid that they were back where they had been and scrambling around papers trying to find a pen that just would let itself be seen. He turned his attention back to the book that he still could not find a home for.  
Slightly tinged with curiosity, Kellin turned the first page. In messy scrawl, a little note had been written:

Property of Vic Fuentes  
Anything I find useful  
If you have reached this page, you are already too far into this book.  
I suggest you close it and put it back where you found it.

Kellin squinted and tried to decide to respect Vic’s property or to look through it. Though he wanted to leave it be, the latter appealed to him more, and he turned the pages.

Hello.  
I refuse to call this a diary because that sounds so childish and stupid. Why would I write ‘dear diary’? Who the fuck is diary? Exactly. A journal sounds too pretentious, so notebook it will be. Chances are I wont even write in it very much, anyway.  
The only reason I’m writing in this anyway is because Jaime said something about how some people kept journals or diaries or whatever to help them calm down and release some pain. Don’t even know why it was brought up, but yeah. So I’m writing in this because I need another outlet.  
Mom isn’t home as often and it’s really bugging me. I see her for about an hour every night. Mike is always holed up in his room and I never know what he’s doing. His music is playing so god damn loud I usually can’t think. His door is always locked and I can’t get it because he’s hid the key god knows where. It smells funny though.  
Dad is getting worse. We can’t really front the money right now for his operation and they wont do it until they’ve been paid. Fucking assholes. A man’s life is fucking ebbing away before your eyes and you care about money more than his well-being. It’s fucking pathetic and I hate it. I don’t know how long we can wait before its too late to operate.

I don’t know what will happen if they don’t.

Victor Fuentes, 15/6/2011.

Kellin realized he hadn’t been breathing properly and inhaled deeply. He flicked through quite a few pages and stopped randomly.

Hi again.  
Dad was in the hospital again. And they said again that they could operate. But Mike threw a fit and punched the doctor and stormed off. I was shocked and annoyed. I told him we couldn’t pay for any more operations. It was getting too expensive. He sighed and said it didn’t matter. It was most likely terminal, even if they did.  
I stayed with him all night and fell asleep with my head on the feet of the bed. When I woke up mom was there as well. Just in the doorway. She smiled slightly but her eyes were all red like when she woke up. But her face was all wet and it was obvious she had been crying. She told me to go home and I did. She took my spot beside his bed and when I turned around before I left she was kissing his hand and rocking herself back and forth, sobbing silently. I wasn’t too sure what to do so I just went home.  
When I got home I yelled for Mike but he was in his room again. His door was locked and that strange smell came from inside. I was so fucking sick of him I just kicked his door down hard and it cracked open. I didn’t even know what to fucking expect. He had been snorting up god knows what and he inhaled extra hard when I came in.  
I yelled at him. I fucking grabbed whatever it was in that plastic bag and threw it away. I turned his room upside down and found others exactly the same. I didn’t give a shit where he got it. He had to fucking stop.  
That night I gave myself a few extra cuts, just in case.

Merry Christmas, papa.

Victor Fuentes 25/12/2011

Kellin’s eyes had watered a bit and he wiped away non-existent tears. No wonder Vic had been so intense when he found out about Kellin’s addictions. And that had been a year ago. 2012. And Vic had been scarring himself for years. Kellin felt an ache where is heart was.

Dad died today.  
Mom wasn’t there when it happened, of course. I was. Mike was off somewhere, probably getting high. I felt so overwhelmed with everything. I had stayed up all night with Dad. Mike hadn’t visited since he got angry with the doctor. Mom was working that job she wouldn’t tell us about.  
He never responded to anything we said to him. It was like he was stuck in this sleep for days and days. It was like he was dead but he wasn’t. Because he was still there and there was still hope but he just wasn’t moving.  
At around 11:00pm his monitor went into the monotonous beat. I had fallen asleep but the sound had woken me up. I wasn’t awake enough to yell for help but it came anyway.  
They used that defibrillator thing but it didn’t work.  
Time of death was 11:04 pm.  
I drove home and Mike was there. He sat at the kitchen counter. His eyes were bloodshot but I couldn’t care right then.  
I think he sensed what had happened because I collapsed and he steadied me on the floor and got me down without hurting myself.  
I started crying, I think, and he just knew. He held me really tight on the floor. And I think he cried too because my shirt was wet.  
He called mom and I just sat there on the floor like the useless piece of shit I was. My band wasn’t making enough money to support my family. I had been living back at home and had abandoned the apartment. I didn’t do anything when my dad died. And I just sat there crying as my younger brother told my mom that her husband was dead.  
What kind of brother am i?  
I was supposed to be the strong one. He was supposed to come to me for help and I was supposed to hold everything up. But I failed. I failed miserably and I was the one breaking when I should have been the platform.  
I retreated to my room and cut myself so deeply I think I stained my hoodie.

Victor Fuentes 06/01/2012


	3. To Find An Addiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that none of these dates are correct. Seriously I have no clue when they met for certain and I have no clue when any of this happened. It's completely fictional and nothing here reflects anything on the actual people.

Ever since dad died they’ve been treating me like I’m glass. They’re always too scared to say the wrong thing and they’re all trying to make everything easy for me. I’m not fucking glass. I’m the strong one of this family. Right?  
But Mike’s addictions are getting worse. I yell at him when I catch him but he’s never around anymore for me to scold him. I don’t like yelling at him. I love Mike but I don’t want him to hurt himself. These could go too far and he could actually do something permanent. I don’t know what to do.  
Mom is trying to be around more often. But she’s working two jobs now and it’s hard. I’ve got the band, though. Mike and I both do but we haven’t really been working on anything. We’ve paused I guess.  
They treat Mike and me the same, like we’re both going to break. I’m not sure about Mike, but I won’t. I can’t break. Everything is so complicated I don’t know if I can take it anymore.  
But I have to. I know that.  
I can’t break down like I did last week.

Victor Fuentes 15/01/2012

 

Dad’s funeral was today. Not a lot of people came. They left me to arrange it and I didn’t think that mom would be too comfortable with so many people. It was just Mike, Mom, Jaime, Tony, and a few of dad’s old friends. Everyone cried. Mom hung onto my dad’s friend’s shoulder. I didn’t cry. I hadn’t cried since the night he died. I wasn’t supposed to cry.  
Towards the end Mike had collapsed and had finally broken down. His sat on his knees and he kneeled and started saying all these things I couldn’t understand and I just sat down with him and let him cry onto me. That was what I was supposed to do. Support. Hold everyone up. It was my job now.  
After about an hour everyone but Jaime, Tony, Mike and I stayed. My mother had retreated with the friend’s and they left together.  
We were all down with Mike while, I swear, he sobbed out every bit of liquid inside his body. He had fallen and was sobbing so hard I wasn’t sure he would actually be able to get up. I didn’t want to cry but Mike was crying and I felt so responsible for it and I just couldn’t stand to see him cry like that. It was my fault. Everything was.  
If we had just made a bit more money this year we could have prevented it from becoming terminal. If we had been more successful my mother wouldn’t have to work two jobs. If I had watched over Mike a little bit more like an older brother was supposed to he wouldn’t have started his addiction. If I hadn’t been such a shit person and I had kept the pain and managed it like a good person, I wouldn’t be in this situation.  
Why couldn’t I do anything right?  
Tony managed to get Mike up and pull him into a hug and he led him away. Jaime stayed with me because I just wanted to say one final goodbye and say how sorry I was for not being able to make anything right. I had failed my father and he wasn’t even going to be alive to witness if I ever made it right.  
I think that’s what was one of the worst things. I had done wrong and he wasn’t going to be there to make him proud of me.  
Jaime kept asking me if I was okay. He was looking at me funny and told me it was okay to cry. It was not okay to cry. I felt numb in my joints and I had an ache but besides that I couldn’t feel anything.  
Jaime put his arm around my shoulder and he drove me home. He kept looking at me. He kept trying to talk to me but I couldn’t talk back. I couldn’t talk right then.  
My mother had gone out for a drink and Mike had retreated to his room. I walked in and he was crying on the edge of his bed and Tony was standing over him, trying to console him. Him and Jaime said their goodbyes and told us what everyone else had been saying and left. I think they knew we had to be alone.  
I tried to calm Mike down but he wouldn’t stop crying and shaking. And it was okay. He was allowed to be broken. I wasn’t. I held Mike and he cried and cried and cried. At some point he had fallen asleep against me so I just lay him down on the bed. I pulled off his jacket and shoes and shirt and left him there.  
I went into my room and I just kind of sat there. I wasn’t sure what to do. But I felt like I was going to be sick so I grabbed my razor and cut myself up and down my arms. That’s why there is all the blood on the page. I wrote it while I cut.  
It feels really nice, you know. It feels like a sense of relief. I finally have control of something in my life.

Victor Fuentes 24/01/2012

 

Something bad happened to Mike today.  
I hadn’t heard from him in a few days. He wouldn’t answer my calls and mom was too busy. I called Tony and Jaime but they hadn’t seen him either.  
I found him at his apartment, but I had knocked earlier and there wasn’t an answer so I assumed he wasn’t there. I found his extra key and opened it. I didn’t like what I saw.  
On the floor of his living room, Mike was choking and spluttering as foam spat out of his mouth and his eyes were rolling into the back of his head. His breathing was fast and shallow and he stuttered. He kept coughing up phlegm and it bubbled around his mouth. He kept groaning and shaking and I froze because what on earth do you do when your brother is passed out on the floor from an addiction you told him to stop and even scared him away because you scolded him so much?  
Well, you call 911.  
And after I was able to find my words I called and told them my brother was coughing and there was all this phlegm and I didn’t know what to do and I told them his address and they said they would be here soon.  
Soon didn’t seem soon enough when Mike stopped struggling and lay almost completely still. I would have thought he was dead if not for the very shallow rise and fall of his chest. I didn’t know what to do so I knelt down beside him and got his head up on my lap. He kept choking and it was terrible so I tried to get the foam out but I didn’t know how.  
I didn’t know at the time what had caused it. Okay, no, I knew what it was, I just wasn’t sure which drug it was this time. And it might not even have been one, but a combination of things so terrible and nasty that it had sent his stomach in a fit. Oh yeah, the stomach. Right. I think at that moment I was so scared that I forgot that I could maybe slow it down and it might just be painful for Mike but it could actually help. I could finally help.  
I got him onto his knees. He kept groaning and choking and he was sweating cold and his legs and arms and head kept jerking and seizing and his eyes were rolling around in his head. And despite the fact that it was all gross and terrible and I felt like I was going to cry, I stuck my fingers through the growing phlegm and down his throat.  
Mike heaved and I jammed my fingers down harder until he was choking and puking on the carpet. There was bile and god knows what else on my fingers but I needed Mike to keep going so I kept jamming them down his throat until he was just dry heaving. He was crying now and he collapsed in my arms and I moved him away from the puke. He was light and his hipbones dug in just below my elbows and it hurt but Mike was probably hurting more now.  
It smelt something awful and I thought I was gonna puke just from the stench but just then the door burst open and three people came in and rushed to me and helped me get Mike up. Two of them were women and one of them was a guy and one of the women ran outside and wheeled a stretcher in and the other two hoisted him up onto it and they quickly wheeled him out and into the elevator and I ran after him because I didn’t want to get left behind.  
I rode in the back of the ambulance with Mike who kept choking and gasping and his chest kept hitching and his eyes stayed closed. His limbs would seize and jerk randomly and one of the women stayed in the back with me hooked him up to different machines but I wasn’t sure what they were for so I didn’t ask and I just assumed that they were to help him breath or something. She kept yelling at the other two in the front but I blanked out what she was saying and I focused on Mike instead. He got hooked up to a monitor that showed his heart rate and from what I could hear it was fast and relentless as it tried to pump blood around his dying body.  
At one point, the monitor was beeping so fast and the car was swerving and it was just too much and then it just stopped. We were going so fast I could barely feel it but then the monitor went into that steady monotonous noise and I just freaked out and I think I screamed and I think I did something bad because I felt a needle in my arm and I don’t really remember a lot after that.  
It was really foggy after that. I only really remember being in a chair besides Mike’s bed and the sedative easing off and being so unbearably slow.  
Mom was there when I woke up. She was in another chair, sleeping too. I must have seemed so weak to the doctors and Mike and Mom for breaking down like that. It was so stupid and pitiful of me.  
I talked to Mom but only for a little bit. She told me she would stay with Mike and she told me to go back to my apartment. I think at that point I had just turned into a robot and I was just following what people told me.  
When I got home I just went to the bedroom and found the box where I kept my razors. And I carved Mike’s name into my arm because I knew I would never forget the day I failed him.

Victor Fuentes 7/03/2012

I’ve tried to write more and more but I can’t really. I just do it when I feel like I really need to remember something. I know it’s been a while and stuff that I’ve actually written has mostly been songs, but we’ve really hit it off.  
But despite all the shit that’s been happening, one good thing happened today.  
I met a guy who we wanted to sing for ‘King for a Day’ and he’s amazing. Not just his voice, but also just everything. He sings for that band I really like and he’s so great and funny and nice and weird.  
I really like him.

Victor Fuentes 12/04/2012

 

There was a party today and I got really drunk with Kellin. Like fucking hammered. Weird shit happened tonight, though.  
At some point I stopped and went out just to be alone for a bit. We were hanging out at god knows whose house. I kind of just went a little further down the road and sat down and drank. It was a nice night.  
I remember Kellin came out at some point to see me. We just sat there, at like 2 am, drinking. It was nice.  
He asked me if I was okay and stuff and I said I was fine. He said that obviously wasn’t true and that I always looked sad these days. Do I always look sad? When I look in the mirror it’s just my face. I don’t really think anything’s wrong right now. Mikes fine, mom’s fine, the bands fine, everything’s fine.  
And it was weird, because that’s the last thing I remember before we were kissing.  
I don’t even know who initiated it. Like, who kissed who? I can’t remember. But we kissed for a very long time.  
And that night it all just seemed very right.

Victor Fuentes 4/5/2012

 

Kellin came to talk to me yesterday.  
He told me that he remembered us kissing that night outside that guy’s house. He also said that I was the one who kissed him. Well, shit.  
I told him to forget about it and that it was just that I was feeling lonely that night. He asked me out.  
Like on a legitimate date.  
It’s so weird, I don’t think I’ve gone out on an actual date in a very long time, but we went out tonight and it was really great.  
We didn’t do much. We had gone down by the beach and he led me to a really small sand beach on another side of the docks I had never been to. It was secluded and peaceful, and no one was around.  
He had brought a picnic and we just sat under the stars talking for ages. It was just so nice to talk to someone who you could genuinely talk to you without worrying about breaking you in every second, because Kellin didn’t know about Mike or Papa or anything. It was just so nice to not feel judged at all.  
It was really warm so we went and played in the water, splashing each other and pushing each other into the oncoming tide. It was so fun and carefree and beautiful and amazing and I never wanted to leave. I wanted to freeze that moment and stay in that blissful ignorance forever. It was like there wasn’t a single thing in the world that could tear me down from my high.  
He walked me home and gave me his jacket because I got cold on the walk. We looked at the stars and he put his arm around me. Tonight was sweet and cheesy and romantic but still refreshingly real, like something that could only happen in a movie but you were just all too aware that it was actually happening to you.  
When we got to my apartment building door, I wasn’t sure what I should do. I was going to say goodbye but he kissed me. It wasn’t rough or as needy as I had remembered it, but it was innocent, just a small kiss. I liked it better sober.

Victor Fuentes 12/5/2012

 

I found out about Kellin’s addiction today.  
It was a small indoor party that Jaime was having just a few days after tour. I had asked Kellin to come and he said he would but I couldn’t find him. It took ages, but I found him on the side of the house, a half empty bottle of vodka by his side and a needle pressed into his arm. He had his eyes closed and was breathing slowly, and he smiled a little.  
I kind of flipped out. It was just like Mike all over again.  
The combination of alcohol and drugs could seriously harm him, like burn a hole in your stomach or something. I read about stuff like that somewhere.  
I grabbed him and took him home. I went through every drawer in his apartment and just found packets of every combination of drug I thought you could take. Stimulants, depressants, hallucinogens, everything. You could smoke them, eat them, snort them, and inject them. Everything.  
I found all his alcohol too. I mean, I guess I couldn’t talk about alcohol abuse but I was better off than him. He drank like it was the end of the world and God personally had a grudge against him. And he cried and got angry and sometimes wouldn’t talk at all when he was drunk. Sometimes he would want to cuddle and hold you or sometimes he would push you away.  
I put everything in a bag, alcohol and drugs, and threw it out the window. He was going to stop. I couldn’t deal with another Mike. What if he OD’d? It would be my fault. I couldn’t deal with another death. I almost lost Mike. I couldn’t lose Kellin too. He was helping me even though he didn’t know it. I didn’t cut as often now, and I missed it. It was just so nice to have a reason not to, when everything else was a reason to dig a blade into your skin and let blood flow down your wrists and hands and legs.  
I will not lose Kellin.

Victor Fuentes 11/8/2012

 

I know it’s been ages since I’ve written anything, but we’ve been off of tour for only two weeks and stuff. There’s been a lot going on.  
Last night Kellin slept over. We’ve been taking it pretty slow and it’s been nice. We just stayed in and watched a bad movie and then went to bed. We didn’t do anything, just cuddled and fell asleep. I know Kellin doesn’t really get much sleep but I had hoped he would. He’s kind of an insomniac.  
I fell asleep on top of the covers. It was too hot to get under and we were sweating even as we cuddled.  
When I woke up my hoodie was off and Kellin was gone. I didn’t put it back on; it was too hot. But Kellin was gone. I thought I had scared him off. I went into the kitchen and was going to make myself coffee but Kellin came in. He was carrying a brown paper bag and two mugs of coffee. He gave me a kiss on the cheek then put them down on the island and went back into the room. I had some of the coffee and opened the plastic bag. He had gotten croissants and I normally didn’t eat breakfast but they looked too good to resist. I started on one.  
I was eating when Kellin asked me if I cut. I had almost spat out my food.  
I really wished I had put the hoodie back on.  
I got angry. I don’t know why. He took it off of me without my permission, and I was an idiot for not putting it back on. So what if it was really hot last night? I never went without my hoodie. Without them I felt vulnerable. And what’s worse is that he probably looked at my wrists. Maybe even my thighs. God, he inspected me and judged me.  
I denied it. He didn’t have a right to know.  
But then he just sounded like he didn’t believe me, and why did he ask if he already knew? Oh, because ‘he just wanted to hear it from me’. Right.  
Then he told me I was closed. That he didn’t know a thing about me.  
And I said I was sorry for not being a fucking open book and telling him everything. Then I told him to get the fuck out of my house.  
I cut myself a lot tonight. I wrote his name with one of the blades, and it looked really nice stained red.

Victor Fuentes 24/8/2012

 

Kellin didn’t call me once or visit me once since I told him to leave. I was scared more than angry. I was scared he would think I was as ugly and gross as I thought I was, and I was scared he wouldn’t come back. I wasn’t really angry, I guess. He was concerned just as I had been about his addiction. I felt like a hypocrite for taking his away and keeping mine.  
I called him yesterday and told him everything. About Mike, about Papa, about being the biggest disappointment in the history of disappointments. I told him about how gross and ugly and filthy and terrible and worthless I was. I started crying at some point during the call, and Kellin was trying to reassure me through the phone. God, I wasn’t even sure where he was.  
It felt really good to let it out.  
Kellin came over a few hours later and asked me to show him my scars. It felt weird and kind of sleazy to take off my pants and hoodie and stand there in my boxers and a shirt, even though everything we were doing was far from sleazy.  
He pulled up my boxers a bit and ran his fingers over my scars. I felt really weird letting him do this, but he had wanted to and I wasn’t about to say no.  
Then he stood up and he took my arms from my sides where they seemed to always be. He ran thumb over my scars while the other hand secured mine in his. He saw his name engraved into my arm and wiped his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was crying.  
He asked if he had hurt me and I said no. I told him his name was there because I fucked everything up between us and I never wanted to do something like this to him. He sniffled a lot. He kissed every scar, traced every cut.  
When he looked at me his eyes were red, wet and puffy. So he had been crying. The way he looked could break my heart. My pain hurt Kellin. I couldn’t stand to hurt Kellin.  
I never want to hurt Kellin again.  
And he told me that he never wanted me to cut again. He said that he understood that I was in pain, and that if it was too much that I had to cut I could always talk to him. But never cut.  
He held me that night and he fell asleep first. It was the first night in ages I didn’t cut.  
If it hurt Kellin, I would never do it again.

Victor Fuentes 26/08/2012


	4. To Find The Inside Of Someones Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter was really rushed because the entire thing got deleted so I just rushed to finish it and it was supposed to be cute and fluffy but that didn't really work out so next chapter okay

Loud knocks on the door made Kellin drop the notebook. He placed it back on the table and quickly covered it in torn envelopes and old papers. He knew it was bad to lie but he didn’t want Vic to think he had breached his trust, which he had. Everything in the book contained what Kellin mostly knew. He didn’t know everything about Mike, or why Vic had been so intense about his addiction, or all the bad emotions Vic felt. Because Vic didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, so it was always hard to know what was going on because he never wanted to tell anyone. He thought he was a burden whenever he did.

The knocks were sharper now, and louder, and Kellin quickly walked to the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” He muttered as he opened the door.

“Jaime? What are you doing here?” Jaime was always welcome but after checking his watch, it was nearly eight and usually Jaime was at out on a date or with Tony or Vic. But instead, on a Sunday night, Jaime was standing in the doorway, looking scared and wringing his hands.

“Is Vic here?” Jaime said, looking past Kellin and into the apartment.

“No, but he’s supposed to be. I thought he might be with you?” Kellin walked away from the door and back into the living room, and Jaime followed.

“I’ve called him tons of times but he’s not answering his phone. It just goes straight to voicemail,” Jaime paced back and forth in front of the couches and Kellin sat down.

Kellin ran his hands through his hair before burying his head in his hands. 

“Where could he be?”

“I don’t know,”

“He was supposed to stay home, for Christ’s sake. Why couldn’t he just listen?” Kellin susurrated, his voice slightly muffled by his hands.

“Did you look anywhere?” Jaime asked quietly. He had stopped pacing now and had gone back to wringing his hands and folding his fingers.

“No,” Kellin admitted, feeling guilty. Why hadn’t he? Vic was his boyfriend, damn it. And he had sat here and invaded his privacy instead of going out to look for him. He could be anywhere. He could be dead. He could be wasted. He could be crying. He could be anything right now, and that scared Kellin. If anything were to happen to Vic now, it would surely be Kellin’s fault.

“Well, come on then, we’re going to look for him,”

***

They drove around for an hour at least; looking in every place they thought Vic might be. His favorite bars, restaurants, clubs, everywhere. No one had seen Victor Fuentes.

They were driving by the shore when a thought occurred to Kellin.

“Jaime, pull up over there, just by those docks.”

Jaime brought the car to a stop. Kellin quickly climbed out of the passenger side and ran down to the wooden platform of the docks. He jumped down from the docks, his shoes sinking in to the sand.

A warm breeze blew through the salty air and brushed Kellin’s long black hair in his face. He brushed it out of his eyes, looking around in the dim light of the short expanse of sand for any signs of life. With the wind pressing harshly against his side and blowing sand into his face, Kellin could hardly make out the silhouettes of objects lying scattered in the dirt.

He walked forward slowly; sand filling his shoes with every step. The moon came out from behind a cloud, casting silver – white light onto the shore and shining through the glass bottles that lay in an array in the dirt. Amber liquid shone bright in the dark.

He didn’t know what he expected to find. Well, he had hoped to find Vic, but the only thing here were bottles of alcohol that Kellin didn’t dare touch. He could have the occasional drink, sure, but only one of the bottles was empty while the other two remained almost, if not completely full. And Kellin wasn’t sure that, with that much alcohol just there, if he took a sip he could stop himself from trying to down the whole bottle.

Kellin knelt down in the dirt. He sighed, and then dug out his phone, desperate for more light and to see if Vic had left anything else here. It had to be Vic. It had to. Kellin had never seen anyone else here.

The light from his phone caught on something buried deep into the sand. Kellin dug his fingers in, groping around in the rough grains until he felt the cool metal against his skin. Pulling it out of the sand, Kellin gasped quietly.

It was a gun, like an old revolver. He traced his hand over the barrel and down the latch. It was severely calloused, and obviously had been used before but not recently, thank god. If it had Kellin would’ve assumed all the scenarios only one could come up with in his head but even though there was a lack of evidence that there had been violence, it would not stop his head from running wild.

He could imagine it. Vic lying mere meters away, blood running out from under his chin and behind hid head, seeping and soaking into the sand, turning it a dark crimson. The waves would lap at his feet, and when the tide eventually came in, it would drag his body further and further into the water before disappearing. And then they would find him several days later, pale and staring up with blank brown eyes that had once been full of life when trained on Kellin’s.

Disturbed by his mind, Kellin squinted his eyes shut. He was desperate to wipe it away. It wasn’t real. It was his imagination. The gun was unused and in his hand, not in Vic’s.

The loud noise of his cell phone ringing inside his pocket made Kellin snap out of his reverie. He stood up, put the gun in the back of his pants and digging his phone out and answering.

“Hello?”

It was a choked noise that had answered “Kellin?”

It didn’t take much to guess who it was.

“Vic? Vic, where are you?” Kellin ran back towards the docks and hoisted himself up on one hand. He managed to get himself up onto the wood and he ran back to the car where Jaime had stayed waiting.

“Kellin, I’m so sorry, so so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just needed to – “

Kellin pulled open the passenger door and climbed in. Jaime looked at him with a questioning glance.

“Vic, sweetie, tell me where you are, we’re gonna come get you,”

There was a pause on the other end. Kellin could hear small sobs on the other end before the voice replied, “I’m at the hospital.”

“Okay, stay there, we’re coming right now, Vic,”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, Kellin, please, I couldn’t – “ The line went dead.

“He’s at the hospital, Jaime. Go!” Kellin cried, and Jaime turned on the car and sped down the streets, away from the quiet peaceful seashore into the hectic city night.

***

When they had finally gotten to the hospital, it was well past 9 and Kellin wasn’t even sure that they would let him and Jaime in. But they strolled on through the doors without being stopped.

The hospital was quiet. The lights were dim and it looked completely deserted. Kellin would have thought that it was, had it not been for the nurse passed out on a stack of paper work. The sharp clacking of keys confirmed that there were more people here.

“Can I help you?”

A voice behind them made them both jump. They turned around to face a nurse, and she didn’t look particularly pleased to see them.

“Actually, you could, if you don’t mind.” Jaime speaking surprised Kellin, as he had been hardly vocal throughout the entirety of the search. And that he was working his charm like she was another girl at the bar. “We’re looking for a man, short, Mexican, long brown hair? Possibly drunk off his ass? I know it may just seem just a little weird,” He smiled and took a step closer to her. “But it would mean a great deal to us if you could point us in his direction.”

Kellin stood awkwardly to the side, head down, pulling his sleeves over his knuckles.

“Oh, him. Right, he’s here visiting his brother.”

“I don’t know what time your shift gets off, but it looks past visiting hours to me,”

“It is.”

“So you just let him in anyway?” Kellin blurted out.

She narrowed his eyes at him and pursed her lips slightly. “He was pretty insistent. And given Michael’s current state of health I think it might be best that family members visit him as often as possible.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if he doesn’t start responding to medicine soon he might not wake up and there will be very little we can do. If he doesn’t respond, we can only wait.”

“Take me to his room.”

“I’m not authorized to do that, given its past visiting hours and you are of no relevance to Michael Fuentes.”

It was Kellin’s turn to glare. “I’m Mike’s brother’s boyfriend, he’s in Mike’s band, now show us the goddamn room before I make you,”

She crinkled her nose in slight distaste but didn’t voice any protest. She walked down the halls, shoes tapping rhythmically.

It was almost silent. The lights that flickered overhead and cast shadows onto the too-white wall were the only source of light. Kellin wrung his hands as he walked, staring at the walls and looking at all the rooms and their numbers.

“Michael is in here. I don’t know if his brother is awake, but don’t disturb either of them,” She turned her gaze to Kellin. “And don’t do anything affectionate. If I have to come in here and force you to leave, I will.”

She opened the door for them and gestured for Jaime and him to enter, but did not come with them inside and instead, and closed the door, taking the stench of homophobe with her. Kellin could hear he heels tapping down the hall.

Vic sat on a small leather chair. His eyes were trained on Kellin’s and Jaime’s, flickering back and forth. His knees were brought to his chest and his elbows rested on them. He was scratching at his face with his sleeves.

“Kellin, I – I’m so so sorry,” Vic stuttered, sniffling.

Kellin walked forward, getting down on his knees in front of Vic. He reached for Vic’s hands, but Vic pulled back. He wouldn’t show his face. When Kellin reached again, Vic flinched but Kellin still grabbed his hands and pulled them away. He held Vic’s hands in his while he looked up at the boy who saved his life, who was now breaking down and looked like he was going to cry any moment. He had already been crying anyway, it was evident. The tears that had dried on his face shone in the dim light of the room.

“Hey, it’s okay, Vic,” Kellin spoke softly, bringing one of Vic’s hands to his lips and he kissed the back of the hand. Kellin didn’t know what to do. He was usually so confident when reassuring Vic, but he wasn’t sure what to do.

“What happened, Vic?” Jaime said behind him. Kellin had nearly forgotten that he was there, so trapped in his own thoughts and worried about Vic and everything that was going on.

“Um, I was supposed to stay home, I know, I’m so sorry-,” He choked on a sob and hiccupped slightly.

“It’s okay,” Kellin whispered.

“I – I had to leave, I just felt – felt so bad about Mike so I went to the hospital to visit him. And I just stayed here for a bit and then at around – around six,” Vic’s voice was rising as he became more frantic. He was close to crying again and Kellin could see that, gently rubbing his fingers across Vic’s hands soothingly.

“At around six, he um, his monitor went straight, like the heart thing? His – his heart, oh god, it stopped beating,” Vic was crying now, hot tears running down his cheeks and he took one of his hands out of Kellin’s grasp and wiped at them. “And then all these doctor people came in and they made me leave and I couldn’t see him and they were doing that thing with the defibrillator and they wouldn’t let me go in so I went out to the beach and I just lay there and drank because I didn’t know what else to do,”

The only noise in the room was the steady beat of the monitor.  
***

By the time Jaime had dropped them both off at their apartment, Vic had already fallen asleep. Jaime had said to call him and let him know if anything else had happened, and he had told Vic everything was going to be okay.

That was what Kellin liked to believe. That maybe it wasn’t okay now, maybe it wasn’t going to be okay for ages, but always, in the end, it would be okay. He wasn’t so sure now.

Now, outside the building, Vic was still asleep, his head buried in the collar of his hoodie and his arm hooked around Kellin’s shoulders while Kellin supported him with an arm looped around his waist. Vic wasn’t heavy, but right then he was a dead weight, and Kellin couldn’t carry him up all those flights of stairs like this.

Balancing Vic on the arm wrapped around Vic’s waist, Kellin took his other arm off of Vic and brought it down behind his knees. With a mental 3-2-1 Kellin scooped up Vic, his knees over one of Kellin’s arms and his waist held by Kellin’s other arm. He sniffed and put both of his arms around Kellin’s neck, leaning into his chest.

Kellin was surprised always surprised at how light Vic seemed to be. With all the baggy clothing, Vic seemed tiny and frail, but Kellin used to be able to feel Vic on his back when he piggybacked him, not a heavy but a sure weight on his back. Now, Vic was skin and bone, hardly a weight in his arms. It was evident the diet of almost nothing had taken a serious toll on him. His bones under his skin were pronounced and dug into Kellin.

He had walked into the building and silently thanked God that the elevator was fixed. Balancing Vic on one arm, he pushed the buttons and listened to the quiet hum of the machine.

When they had finally made the short trip to the 23rd floor, Kellin’s arms were starting to ache at carrying the deadweight that was Vic.

After entering the apartment, Kellin walked to the bedroom, still with a gently snoring Vic in his arms. He placed him down on the bed and Vic made a small whine in his throat. Kellin tore off Vic’s shoes and chucked them to the side of the room.

After remembering Vic’s slightly drunken state, Kellin went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and returned to the bedroom, putting it on the bedside table. The aspirin was still on Vic’s dresser, just like it had been that sleepless night. It was there for Kellin when he couldn’t sleep and when Vic got nightmares. But it often went unused because Vic had tried to limit his drinking and they often found a better addiction in each other.

“Hey, Vic, come on,” Kellin whispered, shaking Vic’s shoulder.

“Mmf?” Vic said, voice muffled by the pillow.

“You need to take some aspirin or you’re going to have a hangover or something,”

Vic groaned a little, and heaved himself upwards. His brown hair was messy, the strands cast up and around and in his face and he looked bleary eyed and awkward and adorable.

Kellin handed him two aspirins and the glass of water and Vic downed both quickly, and handed Kellin back the glass, who then placed it down on the dresser.

The nights were hot and sticky, and seeing Vic in those sweatshirts made Kellin feel ickier. It was too humid for Vic to be wearing them, and Vic’s discomfort was noticeable. He sat on the edge of the bed and tore off the hoodie, shirt sticking to the thicker fabric and exposing his lower belly. He pulled down his pants, barely coming off due to sweat.

Whenever Vic was this exposed, even if it was only a t-shirt and boxers, he became insecure. He had told Kellin once that he felt like they could see right through him, see every flaw, every detail about him. All the scars that ran crisscross up his arms and legs were there for everyone to see. Some were still pink, some were white and some starting to blend in with his tan skin once more. These scars never faded, and Kellin knew that Vic had cried because he was ugly and worthless and that his scars were just proof of lost battles and how he had made himself more disgusting, more of a disappointment to everyone he knew and loved. He knew Vic couldn’t see why Kellin was irretrievably in love with him. 

And Kellin, well, Kellin hated seeing this. It wasn’t because he didn’t like hearing about Vic’s problems; he encouraged him to rant and cry. But more that he didn’t like seeing someone so precious, someone who had so much to offer cry because they thought they were insignificant. Kellin couldn’t put in words, much less say to Vic, how important he was to Kellin. How could he? Vic was the light in Kellin’s darkness, a good addiction to quench the old one. And, heck, Vic was the only reason Kellin was still alive. He wasn’t sure he would have made it this far if it wasn’t for the broken Mexican boy with the scars on his skin and a tear in his heart. Vic wanted to fix Kellin, and Kellin wanted to fix Vic.

So in the hot summer night, with Vic crawling back into bed, dried tears on his cheeks and loneliness in his eyes, when Vic whispered “Please, I don’t want to be alone tonight,”

And even though it wasn’t easy to sleep, but easier with Vic, and even though he was worried and stressed, well, how could Kellin say anything other than “Of course.”?


	5. To Find Love In Limbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS:
> 
> Okay, so this chapter is weird. It's basically fluff the entire time because I figured 'calm before the storm'. I wrote this when I wasn't tired from like 2 am - 5 am. It's fucking long, okay. Almost 6000 words a chapter, and thats a lot for me. I totally regretted staying up that late because I had to pack, but whatever.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Matilda Sall, or outboysfall

When Kellin woke up, he was caught in a tangle of limbs. His legs were woven into Vic’s and Vic’s hands were wrapped around his neck and shoulder. His body was curled into Kellin’s with his head resting on Kellin’s chest and shoulder. His breath was on Kellin’s neck, warm and sweet. It smelt of sugar and old booze, a smell that was refreshingly clean but yet musty at the same time. Kellin’s hand was on Vic’s neck, his hand tangled in the long strands. His other hand held Vic’s waist tightly, and at that moment, Kellin pulled him closer, relishing in the shared heat and comfort.

Something cold hitched under his shirt and he realized that the gun was still shoved down into the back pocket of his jeans. He released the hand on Vic’s waist before taking the gun and leaning over the side of the bed and opening a drawer the drawer of the beside table and quietly dropping it inside. He placed Vic back into the tight grip he had held on him before.

Vic huddled closer to Kellin, a small smile on his lips. Kellin felt so comforted and warm and he never wanted to leave the safe haven of their bed. Kellin leaned in so their foreheads were touching and placed a kiss on Vic’s nose.

Vic’s eyes fluttered open and his smile widened. He craned his neck slightly and kissed Kellin properly, not a cheek or a nose or a forehead, but a sweet kiss that was chaste but amazing and just what Kellin needed in the early morning.

“Hey, you,” Vic whispered, bending in to kiss along Kellin’s neck and chin.

“Stop, it tickles,” Kellin said, giggling and squirming as Vic’s fingers went down to his armpits and he poked and prodded.

“Stop it!” Kellin’s laugh disturbed the peaceful atmosphere. Vic pushed Kellin and straddled him, digging his knees into Kellin’s waist and holding both of Kellin’s hands above his head with one of his. Vic used his free hand to pinch and poke and tickle Kellin’s stomach and hips and waist and armpits. Kellin squirmed and laughed and was nearly breathless with Vic towering over him in a fit of giggles.

“Stop, mph, get off, Vic!” Kellin felt so strung out as he laughed with Vic as a weight on his hips. The grip Vic had on his hands was released as they both went for Kellin’s belly and armpits. With Kellin’s hands free, he attempted to push Vic off of him but he was laughing too hard and squirming too much to be able to push Vic off of him. His arms had gone limp at his side as his stomach started to ache with Vic and how hard he had laughed.

The hands that had tickled Kellin to a breathless state stilled and Vic smiled at him from above. Kellin giggled as the itchiness wore off and he huffed as he caught his breath.

Smiling up at his boyfriend, Kellin whispered “Come here, you.”

Vic grinned and leaned down, bringing his hands under Kellin’s jaw and running his thumbs across his cheekbones before brushing his lips onto Kellin’s. They lingered there for a few seconds before actually locking with the younger man’s.

They lay there for what seemed like ages, kissing in the cool morning light. When Vic finally pulled away, Kellin whined slightly, biting his bottom lip.

“So,” Vic said, settling down so his elbows were placed on either side of Kellin’s head. “What are we going to do today?”

Kellin brushed the brown hair that was tracing lines on his cheeks out of Vic’s face and behind his ears. “What do you want to do?”

“I just want to spend the day with you.”

The hands that were now drawing patterns on Vic’s cheeks stilled and Kellin’s grin widened. He brought his hands down to Vic’s shoulders, barely grazing his skin before quickly pinching right under his arms. Vic squealed and fell, laughing.

“Yeah, not so fun, is it?” Kellin laughed. Vic’s arms had given out and he had fallen flat on top of Kellin. Vic’s breath was hot and heavy in Kellin’s ears and he giggled before rolling over to the side.

Vic got up from the bed and walked toward the window. He pulled the curtains apart, and the light that snuck its way into the dark of the room shone brightly and Kellin buried his face in the pillow.

“Ugh, Vic, it’s too soon for light.”

“It’s never too soon for light,” Vic said, walking back over to Kellin’s side of the bed. Kellin held out his arm and Vic walked into it, folding back into Kellin’s side and down onto the bed, blowing raspberries into his ear.

“Mgh, stop it,” Kellin smiled.

“Want to stay with you in here forever,” Vic whispered into his ear, kissing the back of his neck lightly.

Kellin craned his neck to look out the window. The sunlight reflected beautifully onto the tall buildings that surrounded theirs, casting an orange-white light. It was nice, undeniably hot, but a nice day out.

“We should go out today,” Kellin whispered.

“Where?”

Humming, Kellin thought for a minute. He wasn’t sure what they should do on a day like this. But Kellin definitely didn’t want to stay inside; it was too nice of a day to waste.

“Oh, Vic, we should go to the pier,” Kellin said, a little excited.

“Too hot,” Vic mumbled.

Kellin sighed. It really was hot, but it was an amazing day, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity. And Kellin knew how uncomfortable Vic got in hot weather because he felt almost forced to wear short, revealing attire. He didn’t like attention from strangers or people staring at him. It made him feel judged, this much Kellin knew. He didn’t want Vic to feel this way, and he wanted them to have a carefree day, where the pressing thought of a brother or a self-destroying addiction wasn’t lingering in the back of their minds. He wasn’t sure what to do. But it was definitely not a good idea to go the pier, for the hot weather would make Vic uncomfortable, and that was the last thing Kellin wanted. He wanted a day that was solely theirs.

“Okay, we can do something else.” Kellin thought for a minute, twitching his nose the side. “I have an idea. It’s a surprise, okay?”

Vic turned to look at Kellin, who made a weird adorable pouty face that made Vic laugh. “Ugh, okay, fine. But no weird shit, okay?”

Kellin grinned. “Okay.”

***

They got in to Vic’s car; a slightly beat up BMW that’s got a wicked stereo and a roof that folds in. And it’s amazing to sit and drive with Vic and not say anything. The music blares loudly and Kellin is usually conservative about that shit, but not now. It’s an old Dream Theater CD, one he was sure Vic had lost ages ago when they had tried to play it on the speakers in their house. And when ‘I Walk Beside You’ comes on, it gets awkward with its sad lyrics and Vic smiles a little. Kellin doesn’t attempt to change it though, he kind of likes the way it’s expressive and he doesn’t even have to say anything.

Vic was right, though; it is too hot. The wind blowing all around them as they speed down the streets is refreshing against the sweltering heat that relentlessly smothered them.

And it’s the heat that made Kellin think of this. It’s so simple and it’s just the kind of thing to do on a hot day. It’ll probably be empty, on a day like this. Everyone will be down by the ocean, or even at the pier.

When Kellin finally catches sight of the long building, he makes a few more turns so that they’re further away from it. He knows Vic is probably wondering what they’re going to do, and Kellin is basically winging it. He doesn’t even know if it’ll be open.

“Wait here,” Kellin says, gearing the car into park. He kisses Vic on the cheek before stepping out of the car.

Kellin walked down the street, shying away from the harsh gazes some people gave him. Yes, okay, tattoos, move along now, Kellin thought. It wasn’t unusual to be stared at but he felt like he was often on display when he walked down the streets.

Someone tugged at his sleeve and he turned around quickly.

A little boy stood below him, smiling up. His head was tilted to the side, like he was questioning him. He was young, small, probably only around 8 or 7.

“You’re in that band.” He said. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. He didn’t need his approval.

“Um, yeah, hi,” Kellin smiled, looking down. He wasn’t tall but he was so tiny he towered over him. He felt awkward, talking to this little boy. He glanced around, looking for a parent or authority figure but he couldn’t see anyone even looking at the boy.

“Can I get your autograph? It’s for my sister.” His voice was small and he fiddled around in his pockets. He pulled out a pen and a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

“Yeah, sure, um, what’s her name?” Kellin stuttered slightly, taking the stationary from the boy.

“Matilda Sall,” He said brightly.

Using the palm of his hand as a base, he quickly wrote ‘Hey Matilda! You’re amazing and your brother is very cool. Have a great one.’ He quickly scribbled his signature on the bottom and handed the pen and paper back to the boy.

He grinned and folded the paper. “Thanks so much, it’ll mean so much to her.”

Kellin smiled at that. “You’re welc-“

“There you are!” A sharp voice behind Kellin made him turn around. A woman strode past him and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, who shied away from Kellin’s gaze.

“Don’t run off like that, okay? You had me worried.” She turned around and looked at Kellin who stood there rocking on the balls of his feet.

“I’m sorry about my son, I hope he didn’t bother you.”

“Not at all, actually. It was nice talking to him.”

“Sorry, but we better get going. Come on,” She tugged the boys hand and he followed her.

He turned his head back. “Bye, Kellin.”

“Bye.”

Kellin turned around and continued walking, smiling slightly to himself. He knew his message was awkward but he was never quite sure what to write on them. And the way the boy looked when he handed him the paper was something that always made Kellin happy. The way people seemed to light up, even though it was just a simple message.

When he finally reached the building he had intended to reach several minutes ago, it was locked and a bright sign lit up saying ‘Closed’.

He banged his fist on the window, knocking loudly.

After a few seconds, the door unlocked and a man opened the door, but blocked the way.

“Hey, Jasper, I need a favor.” Kellin said, folding his hands in his pockets.

“What, Kellin?”

“Is it empty? Can I just have it for me and a friend of mine for a while?”

The man sighed, leaning into the doorframe. “Kellin, I’m closed. And I’ve just cleaned the place up.”

“Please? I’ll do anything. I’ll pay you extra for the time,” Kellin spoke quickly. “I’ll get your daughter tickets to that concert.”

Jasper twitched his nose. “Backstage pass, too?”

“Deal.”

He laughed. “All right, Kellin. I’ve locked everything up. Take the keys. Give them back tomorrow or something.”

“Fuck, thanks a bunch, man.” Jasper walks out and locks the door behind him. Handing the keys to Kellin, he pats him on the back and walks down the street.

His phone rings then and Kellin digs the phone out. “Hello?”

“Dude, where the fuck are you? It’s been like fifteen minutes and I’m fucking boiling my ass off in here.”

“Vic, sorry. I got held up but I’m coming back now. See you in like, two minutes?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye.” Click.

Kellin smiles again, because, fuck, this day is turning out great.

He half jogs, half walks back down the where the car is waiting and doesn’t even open the door; just jumps in because they hadn’t even been bothered to put the roof down. His stomach and the tops of his thighs catch on the door and he makes a breathless noise and Vic laughs.

“Ugh, get off me,” Vic pushes Kellin’s hands away from his stomach and basically man handles him into a sitting position. “Where are we going?”

“Secret.” Kellin says, putting a finger to his lips and giggling a little.

Vic blows a raspberry in Kellin’s face. “You and your secrets.”

Kellin just laughs and digs around the glove compartment for a cloth or a tie or something and finally finds an old bandana.

“What are you-,” Vic says trying to push Kellin away, then stilling his hands when he realizes. “Oh, okay.”

The bandana is tied around Vic’s eyes, and Kellin’s hoping he can’t see.

“So, where are we going?”

“I told you, it’s a secret.” Kellin says, taking the car out of park and turning it to drive down the block.

“Yeah, no shit it’s a secret. I can’t see a frickin’ thing.”

The drive is short, and they park behind the building. Kellin puts the roof up and gets out of the car. He walks over to Vic’s side and opens the door. His hands are on Vic’s shoulders when he attempts to get him out of the car without hurting himself. And they’re nearly successful. Nearly. Vic hits his head on the roof a few times and his arm gets caught in the door, but besides that, they do pretty well.

Kellin leads Vic to the building and unlocks it and closes it quickly behind them before locking it again. He doesn’t want any false customers coming in and going all ape-shit when they find out its not actually open, but in fact, rented by a bunch of kid acting 30 year olds.

Okay, Kellin’s not 30. But sometimes he feels older than Vic who can be so immature and childish and just so god damn adorable that Kellin isn’t even sure what age he is.

He gets Vic down on one of the benches and goes back behind a counter and unlocks the cupboard.

He’s not sure what shoe size Vic is, but he guesses and grabs two pairs.

Vic is turning his head blindly, eyes still covered by the bandana.

He slips off Vic’s shoes and Vic laughs. Kellin grabs one of his ankles and tickles the toes and the bottoms of his feet and Vic giggles and tries to push Kellin away but his blindness is a disadvantage that Kellin makes sure to use.

“Stop squirming, you’re going to kick me in the face.”

Vic grumbles a bit, still slightly breathless. “Serves you right.”

Kellin stills his feet and slips one of the shoes on. He laces them up, making them extra tight so they wont feel awkward or slip off and because Vic can’t do it himself.

When he finally gets both shoes onto Vic, he does his own and stands weirdly. He feels even taller now, tilting on the thin balance. He takes Vic’s hands in his and they walk slowly over the other door. He’s surprised Vic doesn’t know yet, but maybe he does and doesn’t want to say anything. Kellin gets the keys out and unlocks the door and steps onto slippery ice.

Kellin hadn’t skated in ages. He used to be all right at it, not really bad, but not the sort of person you’d notice in the rink and think ‘Wow, they must skate a lot’ or ‘I wish I could skate like them’. He was average at best.

But now he was glad he could skate backwards because leading Vic onto the ice blind, with both of his hands in each of Kellin’s, was harder than it seemed.

Vic stumbled slightly, but maintained his balance. The cold air around them was a welcome feeling after the sweat and sweltering heat of the San Diego summer.

Kellin tore the bandana off and watched Vic’s face go from unaware to grinning from ear to ear.

“Holy crap, Kellin. It’s just, how?”

“I got a favor.”

“Dude, it’s completely empty. Must be one hell of a favor.”

“Nah, wasn’t that bad. But I am gonna need something from you.”

Vic slid closer to Kellin, wrapping his hands around his waist. “What’s that?”

“I am going to need a ticket and a backstage pass for your next concert.” Vic broke into laughter. “I’ll pay for it, Vic, I swear.”

“Is that what a free ice rink cost?”

“That’s the price these days.” Kellin said, wrapping his hands around Vic’s neck. They slid on the ice until they were almost pressed flush against each other, chest-to-chest, knee-to-knee. Vic had one hand on his waist and the other on his hip, still pulling Kellin in as if they could get any closer. Their noses touched and they breathed each other’s air, lips barely touching before they kissed.

When Vic pulled away, he smiled. “You can pay for that ticket in ice skating lessons.”

Kellin stepped away from Vic, skating smoothly backwards, his feet and legs moving in a steady rhythm. He stopped when he got a good distance between them

“Skate to me.”

Vic’s brow narrowed, eying the distance between him and his boyfriend.

“Come on, or are you too chickenshit?” Kellin yelled at him from across the rink.

“Please, I could beat your ass in skating and you know it.”

“Then why’d you ask for a lesson, Vic?” Kellin cocked his head to the side and smiled and Vic glared but there wasn’t any heat behind it.

Vic took a step and wobbled, but he slid forward slightly. He pushed with his left leg and brought it up slightly. He did the same with the other and glided smoothly across the ice. He grinned and kept going, pushing and moving until he had covered at least half the distance to Kellin.

From further away, Kellin watched Vic and laughed when Vic’s legs gave way and he fell on his back. He skated quickly over to Vic and extended an arm.

“You are now dubbed as chickenshit.” Kellin said, slightly victorious.

Vic takes the hand, but instead of letting Kellin pull him up, he pulls him down. Kellin’s skates slide out from under him and he falls on top of Vic, his knees crashing with the cold ice and the water seeping through his thin jeans.

“Who’s chickenshit now?” Vic grins.

“Still you, sweetheart.” Kellin laughs when Vic pouts and then leans down to kiss him. It couldn’t be comfortable on the cold ice but they lay there for minutes, just kissing in the cool light.

“Mmf, come on.” Kellin put his hands on Vic’s chest and pushed up, standing up. He pulled Vic up and he wobbled, grabbing onto Kellin’s shoulders for dear life.

Kellin get’s a hand around his waist, supporting Vic as they slide across the ice. Vic’s got an arm around his shoulder to support but he is so short Kellin can see him struggling. They’re a bundle of limbs that are sliding everywhere and holding onto each other and giggling and grabbing and pulling and it feels all cheesy and unreal but that’s what makes it so real. The fact that Kellin actually managed to pull it off and that Vic can barely skate without support and how Kellin just has to hold him while he does it. It feels like something out of a movie and Kellin is sure as fuck that it’s something that he wouldn’t ever see because it would be a stupid romance comedy but he’s living it. He’s the stupid guy and he’s the girl that’s got some stupid backstory but is ultimately too good for him but they fall in love anyway because he does stupid stuff in his stupid life to get her attention.

They skate for ages, racing and pulling each other back. They race from one end to the other and Kellin trips over his own feet just a few meters from the end and Vic glides slowly past him, laughing his smug ass off. And Kellin laughs too because he was the one who was supposed to be giving the lessons.

And it’s not like he was really teaching Vic anything. It was more of an excuse to hold him and touch him and kiss him when he got it right and when Vic finally moves without Kellin holding him they make out until Vic pulls away because he’s determined to prove he can do better than Kellin.

By the end of it, Vic can skate pretty well and can even move backwards a little before he falls over his own feet and Kellin has to pick him up and man handle him a bit more before he gets his stance right.

“Fuck,” Kellin says when Vic flashes in front of him and startles him. He loses his balance then, stumbling and teetering before finally hitting the ground. His face is in the cold ice when Vic glides to a stop in front of him, his black boots sparkling with water and ice.

“Yeah, I think you get the title of chickenshit now.”

“Shut up, you’ve fallen down more times than me.”

“Yeah but I’ve ice skated like once before this and it looks like you’ve had frickin lessons.”

Scraping his boot along the ice, Kellin gathers some of the stray bits of slushy ice and throws it at Vic, who squeals and ends up falling down right next to Kellin.

“You little shit,” Vic says with no real heat behind it and gathers some of the ice and throws it back at Kellin.

It’s cold and still refreshing even though they’ve been out of the sun for hours. But they’re both sweating just a little bit from racing around the rink and into each other and around and falling. They’re tired, obviously. It’s been a day that Kellin couldn’t even think of happening. He wasn’t even sure if Vic would even have fun ice skating but from the way Vic’s grinning and laughing and shoving at Kellin, he’s sure this has been one of their more successful dates.

“My feet hurt,” Vic says, snapping Kellin out of his thoughts.

“You want to go home and get takeout?” Kellin asks, crawling closer to Vic, who nods and stands up, all on his fucking own and Kellin feels kind of proud at that.

He holds his hands out to Kellin, who takes them, and pulls him up. Vic clings onto him again, even though Kellin knows for sure Vic is confident enough to skate on his own, but he lets him do it anyway, because maybe Vic just wants to hold.

They get off the ice and Kellin unlaces his boots and then helps Vic get his off. They lock everything up before walking out. Kellin locks the door behind him.

The streets aren’t anywhere near empty; it’s that time of the day when people are returning from work or heading out to dinner. They stop at Vic’s favorite Vietnamese restaurant and get take away pho. Kellin’s kind of happy Vic limits his drinking in front of him because lately the temptations to just drink himself into oblivion have occurred in the depths of his mind constantly. He can have the occasional drink, sure, he’s controlled enough for that. But now it seems like he doesn’t want to control it.

They head back to the apartment, their peaceful silence filled by music, this time a really good Muse CD that Vic had burned with all their favorite tracks. They head down the streets with ‘Uprising’ blaring loudly from the stereo. They get a few weird looks, a few praises, and even some kids running a long and stopping when they reach the light.

When they finally get up to the apartment, they’re hot again, cursing the summer heat.

They set their food down in the living room and take off their shoes. Vic finds his feet covered in blisters, not used to the rough leather of the boots. Kellin gets a basin and fills it with warm water and places it down in front of the couch so Vic can get comfortable and put his feet in. They turn on the TV, flipping to some good channel that’ll hopefully be showing a good movie. They find one of the Harry Potter films showing and even though Vic will not admit it, he kind of really likes them like his brother does and they stay. It’s the one where Harry’s godfather or something is on the loose and they have to save him from those weird things that suck out your soul by kissing. It gets Kellin thinking, like, could you really suck someone’s soul out of their mouth if you kissed them long enough? Or would one of you simply just suffocate and die?

Hermione ends up punching the Slytherin douche in the face and Kellin gives her a mental high five because she’s pretty badass. Vic is totally absorbed in the movie, barely even noticing he’s not picking anything up with his chopsticks.

Kellin laughs then and Vic snaps back to him.

“Can’t you use your chopsticks, Vic?”

“Please, like you’re any better.”

And Kellin laughs again and he tries to pick up the meat and the noodles but he just can’t win with these wooden sticks. Just, how the hell do people use these all day? And don’t even get him started on rice. After failing miserably to pick up anything from his bowl, he gives up and gets two forks. He’s pretty sure Vic will give up soon too.

Kellin’s hungry as hell now, and he’s actually managing to eat his food now because he isn’t using two sticks of wood. Vic tries for another few minutes and is finally victorious in getting a bit of meat up but it slips out of his grasp. The chopsticks spin a little in his fingers, and they cross over each other. Vic sighs and places them down on the table, grabbing a fork.

“You’re great with chopsticks, Vic.”

Vic doesn’t say anything; he’s focused on the movie. Instead, he brings one of the feet out of the basin and flicks it in Kellin’s face, splashing water onto his hair and clothes and skin. He’s leaning slightly before putting his foot back down, and Kellin is cringing, with foot water all over his face.

“Ugh, Vic you got that shit all over me.”

“Shut up, man, Harry’s getting Sirius.”

“Harry is getting serious?”

“Yeah! Fuck, I remember this part. Harry finds Sirius down by the pond all hurt and shit and the dementors come out.”

“Sirius is a person?”

Vic pushes him a little but doesn’t say anything else, his attention on the movie.

Kellin finishes his food and curls up next to Vic, who’s all tense muscles and bone. He gets his hands on Vic’s shoulders and works into the muscle with his fingers and palms, massaging and loosening knots. Vic groans a little when Kellin starts working on a particularly nasty knot in his lower back, and it can’t be comfortable.

“Fuck, why are you so tense?”

“Just, shit’s happening. Mike and stuff.” 

Vic doesn’t regard the matter any more, and Kellin continues to work into his shoulders and arms and back, trying to loosen the muscles and release some of the tension. He knows the ‘stuff’ is Kellin worrying and his cutting and all the insecurities he can’t really talk about to anyone except for Kellin and the guys. He doesn’t like to talk about it with Mike. Kellin feels bad when he thinks about Mike, because Mike has Vic worrying right now and Mike always has Vic worrying anyway and Vic always feels responsible for everything bad in his life, like it was his fault that Mike got hung up on drugs in the first place. And Vic can’t see it because he thinks he needs to be the support and make sure that Mike’s okay, but Vic is an inspiration. Kellin knew he stopped cutting because he had asked him to and because Vic had himself convinced that Mike might see it and think it was okay to do that to himself.

There were two names carved into Vic’s arms, and you could see them still, even though it had been nearly a year. The scars were a white pink, contrasting with his tan skin. The word Mike for the day he overdosed and Vic failed him, and the word Kellin for the day he thought he lost him.

The movie was finishing up, the credits beginning to roll and Vic was bending under his fingers, hardly moving. He looked almost completely passed out.

“You tired?” Kellin asked, fingers working in on his neck.

“Yeah, getting there.”

Kellin was getting there, too. His eyes had started to droop with slight fatigue, though he could hardly imagine getting sleep. He would often wake up with nightmares and shake and sweat.

Sometimes, he would dream the same thing many nights in a row.

It was a strange dream. It would always start with him as a kid and his mother leaving him with his father. And she’d always say ‘I’ll be home soon’ but she never ever came home. And Kellin grew up in this dream with his brothers but they could never talk to him. He never saw their faces. His father was drunk and hit him and he would cry a lot. And then he’d be with Vic, who was yelling at him for doing something Kellin wasn’t sure what of. Then Vic was running, running away from him and no matter how hard Kellin ran he couldn’t catch up. He could see the red of Vic’s wrists as a path on the ground like breadcrumbs.

It was those dreams that made Kellin hold Vic closer and lie awake for hours.

***

They were lying in the bed, under the covers.

It was hard to get comfortable in the heat. Kellin had decided to sleep only in his boxers. It was the best he could do in the heat.

Vic, however, was still clad in his sweatshirt and jeans, despite the hot summer day. And even as they were lying there, he didn’t want to take them off. He had worn less last night and now he was feeling insecure again.

Vic squirmed against Kellin’s chest.

“What’s wrong, Vic?”

“Too hot,” He mumbled.

“Take your clothes off then.”

Vic was silent for a minute. “Nah, I’m good.”

Kellin shuffled so he was looking directly at Vic. “You’re not, though.”

“I’m fine, honestly-“ Vic said. Kellin sighed and tugged at the hem of the hoodie and pulled it over Vic’s head with slight struggle.

“Give it back, Kellin.”

“No, Vic, come on.” Kellin whispered, tossing the hoodie into the corner. He fiddled with the belt on Vic’s pants before pulling them off. Vic squirmed and tugged in protest but he was no match for Kellin when he really had put his mind to something.

Kellin leaned forward so he was braced over Vic, a hand on each side of his head. “What are you so afraid of?”

Vic looked away but Kellin took his jaw firmly in one of his hands and turned it back. “Vic, please.”

Vic sighed. “I don’t like looking at myself. I don’t like it when other people look at me. I always feel judged.”

“I don’t judge you.”

“I know you don’t, but, just, god Kellin, I feel so gross all the time. I was ugly and worthless right from the start but,” Vic’s voice had started raising as he grew more frantic. “Just, fuck, I’m so ugly! And I made it worse! All these scars on my skin, Kellin, they’re fucking gross. I can’t look at myself in the mirror without thinking about how gross and disgusting I am. How can someone hate themselves so much that they do this?” Vic gestured to his wrists. “I don’t get it. I don’t think anyone should hate themselves. But that attitude ends for me right in front of the mirror.”

Kellin took his hand off of his jaw to wipe at the tears that had started to fall out of Vic’s eyes in slow streams. He himself had started to weep slightly, but his feelings were not of concern.  
“God, Kellin,” Vic sniffed. “Do you know what its like? To wake up, to walk around, to look at yourself and think ‘God, you’re worthless. Cut yourself to release the pain’? Because I don’t want to think of myself as worthless and ugly, but I do! I can’t help it anymore, it’s just what I am.”

They stayed silent for a while.

“Vic, you know I think you’re beautiful.”

“Kellin, don’t just-“

“No, Vic. Please. I’m not just saying this to make you feel better.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Vic, look at me.” Vic’s gaze flickered back. “You are not ugly or worthless. You’re so kind and funny and you’re such a great boyfriend. Your scars are reminders of past battles that you might have lost. But they are battle scars. And Vic, fuck, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life. And no, I’m not just saying that. You were never ugly. These scars don’t make you ugly. They make you strong. And I hate that you hate yourself because you’re so amazing.”

Kellin had started crying then.

“I hate it when you’re like this. Because, Vic, fuck, do you understand? You mean the fucking world to me and I hate how you feel insecure or when you’re depressed because I don’t know what to do. I don’t want you to ever feel like that. I want you to realize how beautiful you are.”

Kellin wiped under his eyes and leant back to straddle Vic. He gently took one of Vic’s arms in his and inspected the wrist. It was a patchwork of pink and white, with fading scars interlocking with fresher ones. A grotesque artwork that went up and down the arm. And Kellin kissed every scar. It was this arm with the word ‘Mike’ carved into it and Kellin traced it with his finger. Then taking the other arm, Kellin sobbed when he saw his name and he followed the lines that were once created by blades and kissed the scars. Just like the night he found out about the cutting. A sick déjà vu.

“Do you get it, Vic? Do you get how important you are to me? If I ever lost you, fuck. I’m not sure I would handle it.”

Vic smiled at him through his tears.

“I love you, Vic. I don’t think I’ve said that before to anyone. I love you. You pulled me out of my darkness. You saved me. You’re beautiful and amazing and my perfectly imperfect boyfriend. We all have flaws, Vic, but yours are hard to find and they make who you are. I love you.”

Vic put his arms around Kellin’s neck. “I love you, too.”

Vic pulled him down and they kissed quietly while they both cried. When Kellin pulled away, he rolled to the side and they curled up together once more.

Kellin didn’t ever want to lose Victor Fuentes.


	6. To Find A Relapse On Broken Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was really rushed and I'm sorry. i wont be posting one for about 2 or more weeks because I'll be at camp and then on a road trip so it'll be awhile but I'll try to write so as soon as i get wifi I'll post.

Kellin closed the door silently behind him. It was late and he had told Vic he was coming home even later so he could surprise him. He had a bundle of flowers in his hand. He had gotten red roses, just a simple bouquet of scarlet. He knew it was cheesy, that whole dozen red roses thing, but he thought it was more romantic than predictable.

He crept down the hall and opened the bedroom door. He expected to find Vic curled in the middle, holding one of the pillows and glowing in the moonlight because Vic hardly ever bothered to close the curtains. But instead the covers were creased and crumpled and pulled down but completely vacant. The bed was empty.

Still staying silent, Kellin made his way down the hall. The living room was obviously empty, for it was in plain sight of the front door and Kellin would have seen him. The kitchen was not a possibility either because Vic would have either said something or because the kitchen was an open area, with no doors. There were only a few more rooms in the apartment. The bathroom and a small study that was rarely used but Vic sometimes closed the door and stayed in there for hours without opening the door even a bit.

A clattering sound made Kellin forget that he was supposed to remain silent and he ran down the hall. The bathroom door was open and Vic’s back was to him. He didn’t turn around and Kellin wasn’t sure if Vic had heard him or not. Vic reached for something on the sink counter top and Kellin realized that if Vic was doing this then he obviously hadn’t heard him.

Kellin dropped the roses and sped to Vic’s side. “Vic, what the fuck?”

A sharp intake of breath indicated that Vic had already done it, and Kellin startling him possibly made him dig deeper into his skin.

In the middle of the bathroom, Vic held his wrist as blood spread across his arm and dripped between his fingers.

He wasn’t even crying; his eyes were just wide and scared like a deer caught in headlights. And Kellin supposed he was, because he had caught him surrendering to his addiction.

“I’m sorry,” Vic muttered, lowering his arm. Red spread from the wound down his palm and splattered onto the cold white tiles.

“No, Vic, don’t be sorry, it’s just-“ Kellin grabbed the all-too familiar bottle of alcohol out of the cupboard. “Just, fuck, why?”

Kellin reached for his wrist, but Vic flinched. More harshly this time, he yanked it out of Vic’s grasped. These were deep, deeper than Kellin had ever seen on him. They were splits in the skin that were oozing scarlet and flowing down his arm in a steady stream of red.  
“Vic, why did you do this?”

Vic pulled his arm out of Kellin’s grasp and stared at the ground, refusing to look at him.

“Vic, fucking look at me!”

Vic raised his head, tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. “It was just a bad night, Kel.”

“To do that? That’s not just a bad night, honey. Something bad happened and you aren’t dealing with it right. What happened to talking to me?”

“You weren’t here! And it’s not your fault you weren’t here. You can’t always look after me.”

“Maybe I should be.”

Vic shook his head and wiped at his face, causing some of the blood to spread orange-red on his cheeks. “No, no. It’s just like, all this shit piling up, I can’t always deal with it and you know I don’t know how.”

Kellin breathed deeply, calming down. He realized he was angrier with himself than at Vic. Why wasn’t here? He shouldn’t have gone out with the guys. Vic had said it was fine. He was gone for only 4 hours. What happened?

“Vic, why didn’t you call me?”

“I just didn’t want to burden you with my shit.”

“This isn’t a burden, Vic. You need to talk to me. If it starts to get this bad you need to call me and tell me. I would have left early.”

“You wanted to go out with them. It wouldn’t have been fair if I’d called, we’d been spending so much time together anyway.”

Kellin looked down, remembering the past few days where him and Vic had lived in an almost honeymoon phase. Watching movies and cuddling on the couch, walking down the pier (finally) and holding hands and watching the sun bleed orange and pink and cream across the sky. Doting kisses on each other’s cheeks and noses before finally meeting with their lips. It had been the best past few days of Kellin’s life, alone with the person he loved the most in the world and no one could disturb their happiness.

“I’m sorry, Kellin,”

“Stop saying that! You have nothing to be sorry for!”

Vic was silent for a minute. “You’re disappointed.”

“Yes.”

“With me?”

Kellin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “With myself.”

“And me.”

“No, Vic. I could never be disappointed with you.”

Vic threw his hands down by his sides, clearly frustrated. “But why not? I’m such a fucking disappointment I wouldn’t be surprised if you left me.”

With a rush of anger, Kellin grabbed Vic’s wrist and he cried out. Kellin dug his nails into the flesh and scars, blinded by his rage and forgetting the cuts that were freshly marked across his wrists. 

“Vic, how can you say that? How can you say that, knowing you’re the one who saved me? Knowing you’re the only person in the world I truly love? Do you really think that lowly of me? Huh? Do you really think that I’m so selfish that I’d run away from you?” Kellin screamed at Vic, who started to sob. Kellin released his wrists. “Vic, I’m sorry. I’m just stressed.”

“I know.” Vic rubbed a hand along his wrists, refusing to look at Kellin.

“Vic, listen to me.”

Vic didn’t look up at him, wiping his eyes. Kellin took a step forward and Vic flinched slightly. Cupping a hand under Vic’s jaw, Kellin pulled Vic’s head up.

“I’m never going to leave you.”

***

Kellin had taken care to clean Vic up without hurting him. It hadn’t taken very long, but the stench of alcohol was still in the air and Vic had winced and squirmed with each touch. Several bandages were needed to cover the gashes and stop the slight bleeding.

Now, Vic sat on the couch, huddled in a blanket and staring at the blank TV while Kellin made tea in their kitchen. They needed to talk about this, Kellin realized. Vic couldn’t keep walking away. Kellin didn’t like to talk about his problems, but he was going to force him to if it was the only way to understand what was going on.

Handing him the mug, Kellin sat down next to Vic. Kellin reached for Vic’s bandaged wrist one more, but he flinched away. Kellin didn’t try to reach for him again, sensing his discomfort.

“Vic, what happened?”

Vic stayed silent.

“Vic, we have to talk about this.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Setting the mug down on the coffee table, Vic turned towards Kellin, pulling the blankets closer around him. “Why do we have to talk about this?”

“Because it’s obviously something terrible if you had to cut again. This is a big deal.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes it is, Vic! It takes a lot to turn mental pain into physical pain.”

Vic took a sip from the mug, holding the warmth in his hands. Kellin could tell it was a way to buy time, a way to delay what he had to say.

“I can’t talk about this, Kellin.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t!”

Kellin sighed, exasperated.

“Look, Vic. This is only getting worse. By not talking about it you’re pushing yourself further into this hole you created, and sooner or later, that hole is going to turn into a grave.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Vic closed his eyes. He breathed slowly, and Kellin could see his irritation grow. He knew that Vic felt like it was his fault, but it wasn’t. He hated how Vic could always find blame for himself in every situation. He felt like the world was on his shoulders and anytime someone messed up that it was him tilting it too far forward or jolting it out of place. Kellin could understand that. He often felt the same. But Vic felt it so passionately that it turned into a pain that he couldn’t sustain in his mind and turned it into scars on wrists and thighs.

“Mike isn’t going to survive.”

They we’re both silent.

“I know.” Kellin whispered, lowering his head.

“How would you know?”

“When Jaime and I went to get you from the hospital, we um, the nurse said that he probably wasn’t going to make it and I just assumed the rest.”

Vic put the mug back on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It never came up.”

“So? Mike is my brother, Kellin. I would do anything for him. You can’t hide shit like that from me!” Vic stood up, almost yelling at Kellin. “You can’t do that. It’s not fair.”

Now it was Kellin’s turn to be sorry. “I know, Vic, sweetheart. I know I should have told you. It’s just we’ve been having such a nice time and I never even knew when to say it.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Vic muttered.

“I’m sorry.”

Vic walked towards the bedroom door. “Are you coming to bed?”

“Maybe later.” Kellin didn’t think he was going to sleep tonight.

Kellin felt like his heart had been trampled on. He had hurt Vic by not telling him about Mike. He felt like he had abandoned Vic. He felt like the red roses that lay forgotten on the white bathroom floor.

***

 

Early the next morning Kellin left the house. He hadn’t showered or changed since the night before and he had lay on the couch in an uncomfortable sweat. He couldn’t fall asleep; his brain was wracked with thoughts and scares. Every time his eyelids drooped he saw the same image of Vic running away from him, wrists stained red. But this time, Vic wasn’t saying he did something wrong, it was Vic yelling at him, screaming and crying at him for leaving. ‘You said you’d never leave! You promised!’ It was a mantra that played in his head over and over again.

He left because he needed to escape the haunting presence of Vic. He knew it wasn’t really him screaming at him in his dreams but he couldn’t help feeling like he had betrayed Vic.

Stepping out into the warm early morning sun, Kellin felt dizzy. His clothes stuck to him in sweat and he walked down the block, hoping to find a place of sweet refuge and hide from his ever-complicating mind.

He found a small café on the corner of the block. A quaint one he hadn’t really seen before, probably just opened. The air conditioning was refreshing to Kellin as he stepped into the store. The air was thick with smells of baked goods and spices.

Stepping up to the cash register, Kellin had no clue what he was going to get. He thought of just sitting here and waiting for Vic to call him and wonder where he went, but decided to take breakfast back home with him and surprise Vic. He wanted Vic to feel a bit better about Kellin catching him and he didn’t want him to be uncomfortable to talking to Kellin.

“What can I get you?” A cheery voice said from behind the counter. She was short and smiled so brightly that Kellin couldn’t help smiling back. She had this cheery aura around her and it made Kellin feel like he wasn’t really that sad anymore.

“Um, can I get two medium house coffee’s and two of those things?” Kellin stuttered, pointing at the glass display case where various pastries and cakes lay illuminated.

“The cinnamon apple Danish pastries? Those ones are a bit stale but I think we have some fresher ones in the back I can get you.” She winked at him. “That’ll be $12.85.”

Kellin dug into his pockets for change and found a slightly crumpled 20 note. He handed it to her and she handed him the change.

“Okay, here’s $7.15 in change. If you wait I’ll be over in a second to get you your pastries.”

Kellin nodded and stepped off to the side, just in case any other customers happened to come in. It wasn’t crowded in the café, a few people here and there, sipping latte’s and typing away onto darkened screens. There was a little girl in the corner wearing a very lemon yellow dress and tearing at a pastry while her mom spoke loudly on the phone.

“Sir? Here’s your coffee and pastries.”

Snapping out of his reverie, Kellin turned around. “Oh, um, thanks.” He took the brown paper bag and the mugs of coffee in a cardboard tray.

“No problem!” Her voice was perky and she grinned at him. “I wrote something on one of the coffee cups, by the way. You looked a little down.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” Kellin muttered, turning to walk out the door.

He wasn’t happy to be stepping back out into the summer heat, but he wasn’t sure when Vic would wake up and he didn’t know if he should be home when he did.

By the time he got back to the apartment, his shirt stuck to him with sweat and he felt sticky. He put the coffee and bag on the counter and walked into the bedroom, hoping to find a clean shirt even though they hadn’t done laundry in a while.

Vic was still asleep; snoring softly into his arm that lay across the pillows while the other was on top of the covers. He moved under the covers, causing the covers to shuffle. He was muttering and turning, but not crying out. The sun shone through the curtains that hadn’t been pulled shut and bathed him in warm light.

Kicking off his shoes, Kellin walked towards the bed and climbed under the covers. Vic still squirmed slightly and was still completely unaware of the conscious body next to him. Kellin rolled over, putting his arm around Vic’s waist and craning his neck to kiss along Vic’s jaw. Vic squeezed his eyes shut, his breath coming in shallower and slower gasps.

Kellin grinned and nibbled on Vic’s earlobe. He continued to squirm under Kellin’s grasp and brought his hands onto Kellin’s shoulders in an attempt to push him away.

“What are you doing, Kel?” Vic whispered, his eyes flittering open. He smiled a little when Kellin kissed the back of his neck, right behind his ear.

“Waking you up,” Kellin susurrated back.

“All I want to do is sleep.”

Kellin leaned away from Vic’s neck and smiled at him, bending down to give him a peck on the lips. “Okay, go to sleep.”

Vic wrapped his arms around Kellin’s neck. He smiled, then his brows narrowed and he frowned, concern etched into his gaze. “Did you sleep?”

Kellin sighed, not looking into Vic’s eyes anymore. “You know I couldn’t sleep, not after last night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“You keep saying that and you know it’s not true.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kellin looked back at Vic and leaning down and brushed his nose against his. “You know I always worry.”  


“Yeah, okay but I’m the reason you worry.”

“You’re always the reason I worry.”

“What?” Vic said, smiling a little.

“Yeah it’s always ‘Is Vic gonna make it home?’ or ‘Did he get into a car crash?’ or ‘Did he forget to put on underwear again?’. You know, that stuff.” Vic laughed at that, and closed the distance between their lips.

“You taste like coffee,” Vic whispered, smiling when they finally pulled apart.

“I went to that new café down the road,” Kellin said.

“Did you get me anything?”

“Breakfast is in the kitchen.”

Vic made a small ‘woo’ and rolled over, pushing Kellin off and climbing out of the bed. He held his hands out to Kellin who took them and pulled him out of the bed. Kellin tried to be released from his grasp but Vic grinned and dragged him out the door, one hand holding Kellin’s.

Vic sat down on the island, grabbing for the bag and tearing it open.

“You got four of these pastry things?”

“What?” Kellin walked towards Vic, peering inside the bag. “I ordered two. I paid for two. She gave me four?”

Vic laughed. “Who cares? Free food.”

“Coffee’s here,” Kellin said, handing Vic a random Styrofoam cup before digging into the cabinet for plates.

“Um, Kellin?”

“Hmm?” Kellin’s voice was muffled slightly as he moved between the cabinets.

“Who’s Katy?”

“What – ugh, fuck, what?” His head bumped the top of the cabinet. He stood up, two plates in his hand and put them down on the counter. “Katy? I don’t know.”

Vic giggled. “You sure? Because it says here ‘You looked like you could use an uplifting. Call me sometime? 251-8250-370. Katy xoxo.’” Vic put on a girly voice for the last part and Kellin laughed.

“Oh my god,” Kellin put a hand to his face, chuckling. “She said she wrote something on there but I completely forgot. I didn’t even talk to her or anything, I swear, Vic. She was just all like ‘Let me get you some fresher what-not’.”

“Maybe that’s why there are four.”

“Fucking hell.”

“It’s okay, Kel. I wouldn’t be able to resist you either.” Vic grinned, rocking on his chair a bit. He pulled at the hem of Kellin’s shirt until they were nearly flush against each other. Kellin smiled and leaned down and kissed Vic.

Kellin pulled away, breathless.

“Stop doing that.”

Vic snaked a hand behind his back. “Doing what?”

“That. Making me goofy when I need to be serious.”

“Why do you need to be serious?”

Kellin sighed and stepped out of Vic’s reach. He took the other cup of coffee and stood intently at Vic. “I think you should see a therapist.”

“What?”

“Look, Vic, I know it’s stupid, but –“

“No, seriously, what the fuck.”

“Vic, consider this. You can’t deal with your emotions and your problems and I think we should find someone who can help you do that.”

“I’m not going to see a fucking therapist.” Vic was angry now. Their pleasant morning had gone downhill with one sentence. “Where did this come from?”

“It’s just, Vic, fuck. You don’t like talking about your shit, and I get that, and I always want you to talk to me about it no matter what. But if you can’t then you need to know that there is always someone you can talk to.”

“I wont see a therapist.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Just go for one session. Okay? One session.”

“No! I’m not going to see a fucking therapist.”

“I think it would really help your mentality – “

“I think it would really help my mentality if you either shut up about this or get the fuck out of my house.”

Kellin sighed. “Please, Vic-“

“No!” Vic stood up, knocking his cup to the floor. The coffee spilt out of the lid and slid across the floor. “You can’t fucking decide what’s best for me, Kellin! I’m not some person to fucking baby!”

Kellin curled into himself a little, shocked by Vic’s anger.

“You can’t fucking fix me, Kellin! I’m broken and I always will be!”


	7. To Find A Cure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY IM REALLY SORRY I HAVENT UPDATED! First, I was at camp then I was on a college tour then I was in Maine then I was on another college tour then I was in Canada and then in New York BUT I AM HOME NOW!
> 
> This is probably one of the last chapters, just saying.
> 
> IMPORTANT: THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO MISHA CAMPBELL BECAUSE SHE'S A BRILLIANT FUCKER AND I MISS HER LIKE SHIT AND SHE'S ONE OF THE CRAZIEST PEOPLE I KNOW GO MISHA WOO

The quiet hum of computers and machines disturbed the silent office. Besides the receptionist and Vic and Kellin, no one else moved in through the waiting room. For minutes they had sat there in awkward silence, unsure of what to say and their discomfort like a barrier between them.

“Do I really have to?” Vic asked in a hushed whisper. He had already asked this several times, and each time Kellin had given him the same answer.

“It’s just one session, Vic.”

Then Vic folded his arms and turned away.

“Look, Vic, I’m sorry. You know that. I just think it’ll be good if you do it for one session and if you think it helps, maybe more.” Kellin said, reaching out and placing a hand on Vic’s shoulder.

“But I don’t need help.”

Kellin sighed. “There is no shame in admitting you need help.”

“But I don’t need help, Kellin, really. You didn’t admit you needed help when you were getting wasted and almost killing yourself with like, thirty different drugs.”

“That’s different.”

“How is it fucking-“

“Victor Fuentes?” A woman’s voice sounded behind them.

Kellin pushed himself out of his seat and leant down to offer Vic his hands. Vic ignored him and got up and walked straight past him, following the woman into a separate room. Running his hands through his hair, Kellin turned and followed them.

The room was fairly empty, with a desk against the wall adjacent to the door and a couch opposite. The colors were dull, the walls white and the carpet a gray-blue. The couch was black, the sunlight shining through the window reflecting onto the dark leather.

Closing the door behind Kellin, the woman turned to the desk and shuffled through the mess of papers before pulling out a thin brown folder. She gestured to the couch before taking a seat opposite them.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Campbell,” She said, opening the folder and flicking through the pages.

“This is Vic and I’m Kellin,” Kellin said, taking a seat next to Vic on the couch.

“So what seems to be the problem, Vic?”

Vic sat back further into the couch, folding his arms over his stomach.

“I don’t have a problem,” He hissed.

She raised her head from the file, raising her eyebrows slightly. “Everyone’s got problems.”

“Well, I don’t,” Vic said, matter-of-factly.

Kellin snorted slightly. “Yeah, you do, Vic. We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

“Do you want to tell me why you’re here, Vic?” Dr. Campbell leaned forward slightly.

Vic shook his head, and gestured to Kellin. “Why don’t you start, Kellin?”

Kellin pursed his lips slightly, sensing the awkwardness that hung heavy in the air. “Well, um, it kind of all started last year. Like, when we started dating, I guess. No, wait sorry. I remember this um, you said it started before that?” Kellin tilted his head up to look at Vic. “He’s had a problem with self harm before. Like I think it started at least during Christmas of ’11? When your, um, when your dad was sick and then it continued on after that.

“You stopped though. I know that, at least. I remember it was after you had found out about my shit and then I found out about yours. I slept over, remember? And then I couldn’t sleep because of my insomnia and I found your razor blades and stuff. You got really pissed at me and we didn’t talk for a few days, I think. Then you called me when I was at practice-“

“You were at practice?” Vic breathed. “I never knew.”

Kellin nodded. “Yeah, I was. I was really scared and I left early to check up on you after you told me all that shit about your brother,” Kellin said to Vic, but turned back to the therapist to address her. “Vic’s brother had a problem with drugs and alcohol and so did I at a time. That’s why Vic freaked out when he found out about my addiction because Mike had almost overdosed a few months before we started dating. And like, when I found out about the self-harm of course I was kind of shocked but it made sense. He drank a lot, too. And he let me see the cuts and stuff after he called me and he had Mike’s name on one arm and mine on the other. I was really scared because I thought I had hurt him or something. He said he’d quit, and I think he did.” Kellin paused to think. “Yeah, you did. I don’t know when it started up again, but it had to have been pretty recently. And um, now, Vic’s brother is in hospital again because he got hooked on drugs again and he couldn’t pay off his –“

“Shut up, Kellin.”

Kellin’s head snapped back to face Vic. He flushed slightly, and could see Vic was shifting with embarrassment. _It’s not your therapy session, Kellin. Shut the fuck up!_ It rang out in Kellin's head.

“Oh, wow, okay.” Dr. Campbell said, breaking the tension. “Kellin, why don’t you go outside so I can talk to him?”

Kellin drew in a breath then nodded, standing up and with a final glance at Vic, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

He sat down on the soft couch in the waiting room and brought his legs up onto the side. He toyed with a loose thread on his Toms, thinking.

Over the past week he could feel Vic pulling away from him and becoming more distant. He wasn’t sure what he could do because he was forcing Vic to do all these things that Vic was sure wouldn’t help him. But that was all Kellin wanted to do. He only wanted to help Vic and because he couldn’t do it himself, couldn’t be Vic’s own source of therapy, he had to seek outside help. And it made him feel like shit. He couldn’t help his boyfriend get over his problems. He wasn’t good enough, wasn’t a good enough boyfriend, friend, lover, anything.

 _Stop feeling sorry for yourself, it’s not gonna fucking get you anywhere._ Kellin sighed and closed his eyes.

It had been so great, their relationship. He was dating his best friend. Not dating, they were _boyfriends_. The past year had been filled with laughing at stupid jokes and seeing bad movies and shoving and tripping each other over. And it had been filled with hand holding and cuddling and kissing and crying to each other. It was the perfect relationship, Kellin thought. What more could he ask for than Vic? It was as if he had a hole inside him that he had been filling with the bitter taste of alcohol and the sharp stench of drugs. But he had changed his addiction and filled the hole with Vic instead. And it had healed him.

But now Vic was the broken one. And Kellin supposed, he always had been. He always thought that he had fixed Vic, and maybe he had. Somewhere between Vic stopping the addiction and his relapse, Kellin liked to think that Vic had been whole. Maybe Vic had never been whole. Maybe he had just built walls around his feelings and ignored them and tiptoed around his own problems just to appear fine to Kellin. Because, like the stubborn man he was, Vic never wanted anyone to worry about him and never wanted to be a burden.

For several minutes, Kellin sat there. He tore down every wall inside his mind and told himself how terrible he was and how much of a monster he was and how he didn’t deserve someone like Vic. He told himself he was a selfish bastard and that he couldn’t even help his own boyfriend. He told himself that he was an idiot for thinking that instead of fixing himself that he could just fix others and count that as love.

Loud footsteps sounded behind him and Kellin turned around to see Vic storming out of the room.

“Vic-“ Dr. Campbell’s voice sounded behind him.

Kellin stood up quickly, alarmed by the sudden intrusion. Vic stopped next to him, arm extended.

“Give me the car keys, Kellin,” Vic’s voice was commanding. Kellin stood there, jaw dropped and gaping as Dr. Campbell made her way down the hall, black hair curling along her shoulders.

“Wait, Vic!” Dr. Campbell’s urgent voice echoed along the corridor.

“Give me the goddamn keys, Kel,” Vic said harshly. Kellin hastily dug them out of his pocket and dropped them in Vic’s hand. Vic ran out of the building and Kellin stood there, dumbfounded by the sudden change. His eyes were wide and he stared at Dr. Campbell as she finally reached him.

“What happened?” Kellin said, surprised at how quiet he sounded.

“What? I didn’t hear what you said,” She tapped one of her ears. “Bad hearing.”

“I said, what happened?” Kellin repeated.

“Oh, just - oh let’s go into the room. It’s more private and we shouldn’t bother the other people.”

She turned down the hallway and with a quick glance around him, Kellin followed.

Kellin sunk into the couch while Dr. Campbell closed the door behind him. She pulled on her sleeves before sitting down on the chair opposite.

“Okay, so, what happened?” Kellin said again.

Dr. Campbell made a huffing sound. “It’s easy to see that Vic is really depressed. And with the pressures of his brother in hospital and being worried about you and feeling low all the time, he just wants to give in to his addiction. Like, he feels like everything is his fault, you know? And it’s not,” She paused for a second. “And do you know where his self esteem is, Kellin? It’s like, in Satan’s crotch. All the way down there,” She made a strange gesture and Kellin stared.

“Why’d he run away?” Kellin asked.

“It was probably me. I’m pretty blunt with this shit,” Kellin inhaled sharply at her curse. “And I said that he should talk because I was all ears and that it would help. I told him it was clear that he was really depressed and I asked him about you for a bit. Nothing negative, by the way. I can’t actually tell you unless it’s like, incredibly important that you know. But he says you’re great and that you worry about him too much. He is really scared of disappointing you, though. And he just really doesn’t understand that the world doesn’t rest on his shoulders. He isn’t fucking Atlas, right?

“But I think he ran out because I told him he would probably need to start taking some medication. And I know Vic feels really fucked up and like, getting medication must make him feel even more worse, like he was actually fucked up. And he’s not. It’s just some antidepressants and some stuff to help his anxiety,” Dr. Campbell sighed. “He just feels really alone. Just, make him feel wanted, okay? I think that’s what he needs. And make sure he continues life as normal and establish a routine.”

“Is medication really necessary?”

“I think at the state of mind Vic is in, probably. It’ll help with everything. I know it’ll feel like he’s not really happy and only is because of the drugs, but it’ll really help. And when Vic finally feels happy enough, we can wane him off of it. But for the anxiety, I just think he’s going to need to take some Escitalopram for a while. He’ll be less stressed about Mike and the band-“

“You know about the band?” Kellin said, his voice higher than usual. He was surprised.

She gave him a look. “Of course. I’m not musically oblivious or something. Pierce the Veil is really good and so is your band, Kellin.”

Kellin felt slightly embarrassed and he could feel his cheeks reddening.

“Okay, well, if that’s done and you want to see me again, you know just book an appointment or whatever. Here,” Dr. Campbell paused to scribble on a piece of paper. “Show this to the pharmacist and she’ll get you your medication. Both need to be taken once a day.”

Dr. Campbell handed him the paper, then stood up and headed over to the desk. She hit the spacebar of her laptop and a grey-blue screen appeared. Kellin barely read the word at the top of the page reading ‘tumblr’ before she hastily closed it. “Sorry,” she muttered. She typed in some information that Kellin couldn’t read from the distance before standing up straight.

“Oh, um, okay. I’ll just, uh, go then,” Kellin stammered, before heading out the door. She grunted in response, not looking up from her laptop.

Kellin paid for the session before heading down the corridor towards the pharmacy. The woman behind the desk there looked at him over pointed glasses and a pointed nose, her stare slightly disapproving. He handed her the slip and she narrowed her eyes before nodding and retreating behind the counter.

“Alright,” The woman said, placing a bottle on the desk. She grabbed at something else under the counter and placed it beside the bottle of pills. Kellin looked at it and paused for a second before realizing what it was. It was one of those containers with the days of the week lined up so you knew what pill to take.

“Okay, listen here. You take ten milligrams of Escitalopram every day, okay? No more. Your doctor will check up with you in a while to see if we need to change it to five milligrams a day. If you start feeling any negative effects, call your doctor and see if she can prescribe some different medication,” She said sternly. 

“Yeah, um, okay. Got it,” Kellin reached into his pocket and dug his wallet out. He sighed at the price but knew it was for the better and paid with his credit card. She gave him another disapproving look before he took the bag and headed out the door of the hospital.

Kellin stood outside the doors and started to head towards the car before he realized that, it was in fact, gone. He slapped himself. Of course it was gone; Vic had taken it home.

Balancing the bag of medicine on one knee, Kellin pulled out his phone and dialed in the number seared into his brain.

“Kellin?”

“Can you come get me, you ass?” Kellin laughed a little on the phone. There wasn’t any heat behind it.

“Oh, fuck, right. Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” Kellin could hear Vic stumbling over himself on the other end of the line. “Sorry.”

“Where are you anyway?” Kellin said, smiling.

“I’m, uh, I’m at Tony’s.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Tony, say hi,” A faint voice on the other end confirmed Vic’s statement.

“Oh, um, okay. Come now though, yeah?” Kellin said.

“’Course. I’ll be there soon.” _Click_. Kellin sighed and put the phone back in his pocket and waited for the car to take him home.

***

The entire ride home, Vic and Kellin didn’t say a word to each other. They remained in a silence that hung thick in the air. They remained silent in the long elevator ride, too, and didn’t talk until Kellin placed the contents of the plastic bag on the counter.

“Is that, are those pills?” Vic stuttered, staring at the large bottle with a child safe seal.

Kellin opened the pill organizer and placed a pill in for each day of the week. “Yeah.”

“And are those, um, those things that old people use to keep track of what pills they need to take each day?”

“Yup.”

Vic breathed out, running a hand through his hair. “Well, shit.”

“Sorry.”

Walking towards Kellin, Vic sighed and said, “No, no it’s okay. It’s not your fault,” Vic picked up the bottle of pills. “So, should I take one now?”

Kellin frowned. “I don’t think so. I mean, I think you should start it tomorrow, on a Monday. And it has to be taken at the exact time, every day. So like, before you head out for practice. So nine am-ish, okay?”

“Okay,” Vic said, placing the bottle back in its place before walking around the counter and leaning against the opposite side, facing Kellin. “Read me the side effects.”

Kellin sputtered. “What? What for?”

“I don’t know. It’s always something weird.”

Kellin picked up the bottle and narrowed his eyes on the small print. “Um, okay. ‘Side effects are often, but not limited to, insomnia, dilated pupils, dry mouth, um, somnolence, dizziness, sweating, constipation,” Vic sniggered. “Fatigue, indigestion, and often in men, delayed ejaculation.”

Vic stopped laughing. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah, it says it here,” Kellin smiled. He slid the bottle across the counter towards Vic, who in turn, picked it up and examined it.

“Fuck.”

Grinning, Kellin sat down in one of the stools across from Vic. He sat there quietly, unsure of where to pick up the conversation, but knew that they would be perfectly comfortable in each other’s presence despite the silence.

“So, um, did you like Dr. Campbell?” Kellin queried.

“Hm? Oh yeah. She was very, um,” Vic paused, pursing his lips. “Blunt.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s nice to have someone who is so upfront about my shit and is just set on making me better.”

“Unlike me?”

Vic waved a hand in dismissal. “No, you’re pretty upfront. Or you try to be. It’s different though, Kel. Like, you’re my boyfriend. You aren’t meant to always deal with my problems and find solutions for them,” Kellin started to protest, but Vic leant forward over the counter and put a hand over Kellin’s mouth. “Stop, Kel. It’s like, I know we share each other’s shit and you’re supposed to make me feel good, but that’s not your only job. And it isn’t your job to be upfront, but it’s hers.”

Kellin sighed, his attempts to speak muffled by Vic’s palm. In the struggle to remove the hand, Kellin licked the skin that pressed against his lips. Vic recoiled, pulling his hand sharply away.

“Ew! Kellin, why?” Vic rubbed the inside of his hand along his jeans. “That’s gross.”

“You put your hand there! What did you expect?” Kellin laughed.

“Not your tongue to be on my hand!”

Kellin raised his eyebrows. “You’ve never complained about my tongue before.”

Vic gave him a disapproving huff and stuck out his tongue at him when Kellin looked away. Reaching over the island, he twisted his hand to reach under Kellin’s arm and pinched lightly. Kellin squeaked in surprise.

“Okay! Okay, okay, sorry about licking your hand,” Kellin bucked out of the way of the hands that twitched teasingly towards the underside of his arms.

Settling down, Kellin asked, “Would you be okay with going again?”

Vic frowned, thinking. He hesitated, pausing to open his mouth before closing it again, reconsidering his answer. “Maybe. I don’t know. It was scary, like, having to tell someone about my shit. She was good though, a bit blunt, but good.”

“So can I sign you up for one next week?”

“Sure. But can it be on a Tuesday? Not the one coming up, the one after.”

“Do you want that much time between your next session, Vic?” Kellin had got his phone out and was typing in the number of the hospital. Not looking up, he continued to talk. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, I mean, I think it’ll be fine. Like, I got those meds and stuff until then, and I don’t think you’re gonna leave me alone very much this week.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely not leaving you alone,” Kellin grinned then held the phone up to his ear and waited for the answer on the other end.

Vic’s mouth quirked up into a half smile, half smirk and pushed himself up from the counter and moved around the front of the island to stand behind Kellin. Kellin felt Vic’s hands move down his torso and he felt like the touch could burn. “I don’t want you to leave me alone,” Vic whispered, breath hot on the back of Kellin’s neck. He nibbled at the lobe before kissing behind Kellin’s ear.

“Hello, San Diego General, how may I assist you today?” The calm collected voice on the other end made Kellin put Vic out of his mind. At least for a little while.

“Hi, um, could I make an appointment for the, um,” Kellin counted the days in his head. “The twentieth?”

The soft clacking of keys could be heard on the other end. “What doctor will you be seeing?”

“We will be seeing,” The hot slide of Vic’s tongue on the back of his neck made Kellin stutter. “Seeing, um, doct – Doctor Campbell.”

“What time would you like to have your appointment at?”

Vic’s hair brushed the wetness on his skin and Kellin shivered. Before he could answer, Vic’s mouth was on the side of his neck, on the meaty part where shoulder met neck. He sucked on the taught skin there, what Kellin assumed would end up being a large and, undoubtedly noticeable, hickey. “Ah – would – ah - 11 am be – uh - okay?”

The nurse on the other end paused. “Yes. 11 a.m., Tuesday the twentieth? And who ‘s name should this be under?”

“Victor Fuentes,” Kellin breathed. One of Vic’s hands was clawing at his chest, raking fire through the thin fabric onto skin. The other twirled the tie that hung loosely around Kellin’s neck. And Vic’s mouth was kissing along the curve of his shoulder and biting at the collarbone, sucking bruises and colors into the skin.

“All right. Thank you for making an appointment. See you on the twentieth, Mr. Fuentes,” The line went dead.

The kisses that were trailing along the now bruised and delicate skin of his neck traced up along his jaw. Vic was close enough for Kellin to turn his head and run a hand through his hair before finally getting his lips on Vic’s.

The kisses had started soft, but quickly grew more insistent and aggressive and Kellin broke apart, breathless, then pulled on the collar of Vic’s jacket, urging him around the front.

Vic grabbed Kellin’s tie and yanked it. Kellin stood up quickly, his body reacting before his mind. He immediately went back into Vic’s space, breathing into each other’s mouths and staring, just staring with hot eyes.

Then Vic broke out into a flat out grin that stretched from ear to ear. He walked forwards, pressing a hand into his chest, forcing Kellin to walk backwards, facing Vic with wide, shocked eyes. Before he knew it, he was being backed into their bedroom and slammed against the wall. Kellin took this as an opportunity to bite at Vic’s neck, and get him as marked up as he already was. They would have matching bruises.

“Fuck – Kellin, nngh, stop,” Vic’s hands, which had gone limp at his sides, pushed Kellin’s shoulders back and forced his head to drop against the wall. Kellin opened his eyes and his vision was blurred. When they finally focused, the welts and colors were finally appearing under Vic’s skin and coming to the surface. Kellin smiled and Vic returned the grin before leaning in to kiss him again. Kellin could feel Vic’s hands sliding up from his shoulders to link around his neck, and unsure of what to do with his, he slid them down Vic’s back and grabbed his waist to pull him closer. He slid one hand under the shirt and pulled the warm skin that vibrated under his fingers closer to him.

Vic pulled back and closed his fingers around Kellin’s and pulled up, up, up, until his shirt was on the floor beside him. Kellin ran a hand through his hair and he cursed under his breath. Vic stared at Kellin while he unbuckled his jeans and they slipped and pooled at his ankles before he stepped out of them, naked except for his boxers. He leaned forward then, reaching out to tangle his hands in Kellin’s tie.

“Why do you wear these things?” Vic breathed, stepping in closer. “It’s like you’re wrapping yourself up, you know? Makes me want to _unwrap_ you.”

“Fuck, I want you to.” Kellin whispered back, going lax under the fingers that tangled with the knot under his collar. When he finally got the tie undone, he pulled Kellin in for a quick kiss. Vic stepped back, observing. Kellin could only imagine what he looked like in the dimly lit room (Vic had forgotten to open the curtains _again_ ), sweaty, unfocused and definitely turned on. Vic sighed, folding his arms.

“Kellin, you know, this works better with less clothes.”

“What?” Kellin broke out of thought. “Oh, fuck. Right, sorry.” He hastily undid the buttons on his collared shirt and left it unbuttoned and hanging off of his shoulders. Vic pulled the shirt down his shoulders and left it to drop on the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes.

Vic pulled him down for another kiss, and that felt like all they had been doing. But, fuck; Vic was such a great kisser he didn’t even care. Vic pulled at the hair at the base of his head and lifted a leg up to tangle behind Kellin’s hips. Kellin slid his hand down under Vic’s knee, pulling him up and getting both hands under his legs until they were both wrapped around his waist and Vic wasn’t touching the ground. Vic wasn’t heavy, in fact, far from it, but Kellin was so overwhelmed with the lust that he turned them around so that Vic was now against the wall and Kellin could support his weight on weak knees.

Breathing against his lips, Vic said quietly, “Bed, fuck, Kellin, bed.”

Kellin made a noise of agreement before walking backwards until his calves hit the foot of the bed and he fell back with Vic collapsing on top of him. The denim of his jeans dragged harshly along his thighs and he was wondering why he still had them on when Vic was almost completely exposed.

As if reading his mind, Vic fumbled with the belt buckle. “Off, fuck, take it off.”

Kellin moved back until he felt his head hit the headboard and shuffled until he was sitting almost upright. He arched off of the bed and pulled his pants down, barely getting them off his ankles. Vic crawled forward, settling his legs on either side of the tops of Kellin’s thighs. Kellin reached forward, wanting to touch Vic and he felt so starved of it because they had been so distant lately and the recent contact was oh so welcome. And, fuck, they hadn’t been able to do anything with Kellin being serious and Vic disregarding his well-being.

A soft keen on the end of his exhale, Kellin hooked a finger in the elastic waistband of Vic’s boxers. He hesitated because even though he wanted this, he wasn’t sure where Vic was. Looking up, Kellin saw Vic’s hands close around his, urging them down, but Kellin’s hands didn’t budge.

“Are you sure?” Kellin asked, nearly breathless.

Vic licked his lips, and nodded, pushing his hands down onto Kellin’s. And this time, Kellin followed.


	8. To Find Solace In Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY HEY HEY IM SO SORRY IM LITERALLY TRASH LIKE ITS BEEN ALMOST A YEAR BUT THIS STORY IS PRETTY MUCH DONE YOOOOOOOOOOOO

Days had passed.

It was now early December. Though it hardly got cold compared to other areas, San Diego was colder than Kellin had remembered.

All the leaves had blown off the branches and the ground was a grey-brown, dead and colorless. Perhaps almost as dead as Kellin looked. Now, as Kellin stared out the window of their apartment, small beads of snow began to drift down from the clouds, forming a thin layer of white on the ground.

“Kellin?”

Not taking his gaze off of the softly falling snow, Kellin made a noise of acknowledgment in the back of his hoarse throat.

“Kellin, it’s um, it’s Dr. Montgomery, from the hospital on the phone for you? He finished the autopsy, and you can go get his belongings now.”

“I don’t want to.”

The man who had spoken softly to him placed a hand on his shoulder, and Kellin tensed under the touch.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Kellin started, choking a little on his words. “Because, _fuck_ , Jesse, it’s like admitting that he’s- that he’s really-“

“I know, Kellin, but you can’t just be in denial forever.”

“Why not? There isn’t any point with him gone,” Kellin’s voice shook slightly, and he could already feel the sobs at the back of his throat. Talking about him could almost always bring him to tears, but they never frightened him as much as the nightmares.

“Don’t say that,” Jesse snapped. His voice softened slightly as he resumed talking. “He wouldn’t want you to just waste away, you know. You’ve barely left here since that night. It’s unhealthy.”

“I don’t care.”

“Come on, Kellin,” Jesse grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to the couch, pressing Kellin down into the seat. “What do you want to do then, huh, Kellin?”

“I don’t want to do anything,” Kellin remarked, pulling a blanket over his shoulders and pulling on the ends.

“What about the funeral?”

“I don’t care.”

“His parents?”

“I don’t care.”

“What about the band?”

“I don’t care.”

“What do you care about then?” Jesse threw his hands down in frustration.

“I cared about him.”

Jesse sighed, exasperated. “He’s gone, Kellin. And he’s not coming back. You need to accept that so you can move on and get back to normal.”

“I don’t want to!” Kellin said, his voice rising to a yell.

“Come to terms with it. Just say it, Kellin. It’s not that hard.”

Kellin buried his head in his hands, letting the blanket sag over his shoulders. When he looked up, his eyes were red around the edges and beginning to water. He breathed slowly, little _in, out, in, out_ to calm him down. He sobbed slightly.

“My friend, the love of my life, my, Victor Fuentes, is-“ Kellin really did start to cry then, tears and words stuck in his throat. Jesse nodded, eyes wide.

Kellin wiped his eyes with his sleeve before continuing. “Vic – Victor Fuentes is dead.”

***

_Several days earlier_

 

The days had grown colder and shorter. Despite the depleting weather, Vic and Kellin were happier than ever.

Vic had gone to his therapy sessions twice a week every week since the end of August, and now it was late-November. He had admitted that he liked the help it gave him and that Dr. Campbell’s opinions and views and even her bluntness were incredibly helpful.

The Escitalopram had been a wary start for Vic, as he felt that this medication simply concluded the fact that he was messed up and needed to be fixed like a broken coffin. He thought the medication was just a replacement for his happiness, not something that would actually make his smile brighter, and for once in what seemed like ages, real.

The medication had in fact had already noticeably begun to have a positive effect on Vic’s body. He had had little appetite before, depression causing him to have no desire to eat. Now, he had gained the weight he had lost back. He wasn’t fat, far from it, but Kellin liked being able to sink his fingers into the little fleshiness above the waistband of Vic’s jeans.

He hadn’t cut in a while either. The scabs had long since healed and became one with the artwork of scars along his arms and thighs.

Now, with everything set right, they had taken Vic’s dosage down to 5mg. Kellin had worried that he wouldn’t be able to cope with such a small dose everyday, but Vic had done fine and still seemed the same as ever.

Despite the uplift in moods, Kellin still kept the Escitalopram in his locked drawer, along with the gun and the extra bullets he found. He set the pills in the boxes every Sunday evening so they were of easy access to Vic in the morning, but he didn’t trust Vic yet with the entire bottle.

Through Vic’s recovery, Kellin had begun to mend the seams inside himself too. He figured that they could recover together, Vic with his depression and Kellin with his insomnia.

He loved being able to sleep through the night without having to wake every few hours. Now in the mornings he found himself much cheerier, his mood overall improved. There were times when he would wake, his face covered in a sheen of sweat, but Vic would be there too, curled up in his arms under the safety of the duvet, and Kellin would kiss his nose and go back to sleep.

Throughout those months, Kellin had hardly left Vic alone.

They were rarely apart. They attended each other’s concerts, eating out, staying home and going to the movies. He didn’t leave Vic’s side the entire week when Mike had died in early October. Vic had been doing so well with his recovery that it frightened Kellin that his brothers death would tip him back over the edge, cause him to relapse. Instead, he found solace in writing and music, expressing his anger and sadness into harshly scribbled words and sad lyrics. Kellin constantly made sure that Vic was okay, and whenever a fan or an interviewer would attempt to talk about it, Kellin would intervene, attempting to avoid the subject or just outright telling the person that it wasn’t appropriate. Kellin always made sure he was there to calm down Vic if he was on the verge of one of his attacks.

The few times they were apart was when Kellin left him in the care of Jaime and Tony. They needed to find a new drummer, and start working on their new album, despite Mike’s infinite absence.

Kellin trusted them to keep Vic safe, knowing that they too would suffer greatly if Vic were to relapse or let his depression swallow him whole again. He was still protective when they were away in their studio practicing, calling every few hours to make sure he was okay, that he had eaten lunch, whether he’d be home for dinner.

And now, Kellin was coming home late from Justin’s, closing the door quietly to make sure not to wake Vic if he was in fact sleeping.

Walking through the bedroom door, it was confirmed that he was sleeping. He was curled up in the middle of the bed; covers rucked up over his ankles and gather under his chin with one arm over the duvet. His hair lay askew across the pillows, breath coming in slow and quiet. The moon shone through a split in the curtains, illuminating Vic and making his skin nearly glow in the light.

Kellin took off his jacket and shoes and slid his pants down his hips and off his ankles before climbing onto the bed, crouching over Vic.

“Hm?” Vic muttered, voice muffled in the pillows.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Kellin whispered into Vic’s ear before bringing the duvet up and over him.

Vic rolled over to face him, head bobbing lazily. He opened his eyes and blinked the sleep out of them. “S’okay.”

Kellin smiled and looked at Vic’s drowsy eyes, blurred slightly. He ran a hand through Vic’s hair, hand curved under his jaw to bring his lips in for a chaste kiss.

“Mmf,” Vic said incoherently against Kellin’s lips, pulling back. “Sleep now, kiss later.”

Laughing a little, Kellin huffed and Vic rolled over onto Kellin’s torso, looping his arms around his neck and resting his head on Kellin's chest. On instinct, Kellin put his hands on Vic’s waist, linking them together and pulling him closer until they were almost flush against each other. Kellin breathed out and closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort of a warm body pressed against him. A smile quirked on his lips as fatigue overcame him and he slipped into unconsciousness.

***

Alarm blaring loudly, Kellin groaned and tried to roll over. His attempt was unsuccessful, as Vic was tangled between his limbs and refusing to let go even has Kellin shifted on the bed. He finally reached across and managed to slam his hand down on the button.

“Ngh, Vic, get off. I have to get ready.”

“Can’t move now,” Vic said, sleep clogging his voice. He shuffled his head further on Kellin’s chest. “Pillow.”

“My chest isn’t your pillow, Vic,” Kellin sighed. He knew he could push Vic off, but he was too tired to say no to him.

“It is now.”

“Vic,” Kellin whined, pushing Vic off of him. Vic squealed a little when he rolled off the bed, landing with a thump on the floor. Kellin threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. His joints cracked as he walked towards the bedroom door, kicking Vic playfully as Vic’s hands attempted to drag him down to the ground.

Fiddling with the coffee machine, Kellin got two mugs down from the shelves, humming under his breath.

“Something new you’re working on?” Vic asked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to rummage through their fridge.

“Yeah. Jesse and I are trying to figure it out. It isn’t going too well, might have to scrap it.”

“Sounds good.”

“Is there anything edible in the fridge?” Kellin inquired. He had taken the milk from Vic’s hands and was pouring it into their coffee. He added a little bit of sugar to Vic’s but not enough to make it sickly sweet. He knew how he liked it.

“There’s some eggs and still some of that milk and a bit of butter, but besides that I don’t think there is anything to really eat.”

Kellin frowned, handing Vic his mug. “We’ve got bread. You want some toast?”

Vic nodded and Kellin sliced up some of the remaining bread and slid it into the toaster. “We’re running low on food,” Vic said over his coffee. “But we don’t have a shortage of beer.”

Kellin laughed as he drank in the sweet fumes of the dark drink. “You made me buy so much. I don’t even drink that much beer, and we still bought so much.”

“I drink it! Besides, you only really drink wine and expensive stuff.”

“Because I know how to limit myself with it,” Kellin grinned, pushing Vic’s shoulder.

“Ah, stop! Don’t make me spill my coffee, Kellin,” Vic giggled, holding his mug closer to him and giving it such a fond look like it was the elixir of life.

“I’ll go out and buy more food today,” Kellin said, placing his mug down on the counter and getting the butter out of the fridge just as their toast popped out, nearly charred. Placing their slices on separate plates, Kellin handed Vic his toast before settling into a stool behind the island with his own breakfast.

“I’ve got practice all day today, but I’ll be home at around 6 – ish,” Vic was nearly incoherent with his mouth full of food.

“Do you want to do something tonight then?” Kellin asked, licking the butter and crumbs from his fingers.

Vic shrugged. “I don’t really have anything in mind. Should we go out? We’ve been home most nights this week.”

_Yes_ , Kellin thought, _yes, yes, yes_. “I can make reservations at that Spanish place you like?”

“Isn’t that a bit too fancy?”

“It’ll be nice. Please?”

“Okay, okay, fine. At around 7:30 though, yeah?” Vic asked, walking around the counter and placing his dishes in the sink. Kellin walked over and turned on the tap. He fumbled with the soap before pouring some into the sink, letting the bubbles form and lather at the surface of the water. Kellin began to wash his dishes, along with many other cups and plates that had lay forgotten in the sink. Vic was beside him, scrubbing the grime off of old cutlery before placing them in the dishwasher.

“What time is it?” Kellin asked, bending down under the sink and rummaging through the various soaps and scrubs to find the detergent.

Leaning over Kellin, Vic turned to look at the clock. “Uh, it’s nearly nine.”

“Oh, shit – ah!” Kellin cried out when his head hit the top of the counter. He heard Vic laughing faintly behind him and then Vic was pressed against the backs of his legs, fingers tracing along his waist. “Stop laughing at my pain.”

“But it was so funny,” Vic chortled. Kellin sighed, still leaning down, hips moving to a beat that played over in his head. Vic reached back then and smacked Kellin’s still moving ass and Kellin yelped and hit his head again.

Pulling out from under the sink, dishwasher soap in hand and the other rubbing at the slowly forming bump at the top of his head, Kellin sighed again before placing the bottle on the counter. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Vic said, grin etched into his voice. He placed his hands on the counter, bracketing Kellin in between.

“You actually _slapped my ass_ ,” Kellin groaned. “With your _hands_.”

Vic pulled his hands back to loop his fingers in the waistband of Kellin’s boxers, pulling his back flush to Vic’s chest. Kellin exhaled slowly, feeling the heat radiating off of Vic onto his skin. “In my defense, your ass was _right there_ , you were basically waving it in front of me.”

“That doesn’t mean you should hit it.”

Vic hummed against the back of Kellin's neck, making the hairs stand up. His hands slipped under the shirt, pulling and toying with the soft skin and leaving faint red trails. “It definitely does.”

Kellin moved his hands behind Vic’s head and leaned to the side to get a better look at him. “It hurt,” He pouted and Vic laughed at his attempt at puppy-dog eyes and gave him a quick kiss on the side of his lips.

Kellin leaned out of Vic’s grasp and grabbed the detergent off of the counter. Vic leaned in again and Kellin placed a finger on his lips, pushing him gently back. “Nuh-uh. Wash now, kiss later.”

“You’re just upset because I smacked your butt,” Vic chortled, leaning against the counter while Kellin fiddled with the dishwasher.

“And because you denied me kisses last night. And it hurt, okay!”

Vic raised an eyebrow and made a breathy noise like he was laughing. “You’ve never complained about your ass hurting.”

Kellin stood up and pinched the side of Vic’s arm. “Shut up.”

Giggling, Vic placed the bottle under the sink. Kellin resisted the urge to return the favor and stood with his arms crossed in the middle of the kitchen. When Vic emerged from under the sink, he looped his arms around Kellin’s neck. Kellin smiled and sighed before snaking his arms around Vic’s waist.

“You know what, Mr. Bostwick?”

“What, Mr. Fuentes?” Kellin asked.

Vic leaned in until their noses bumped, breath hot against Kellin’s mouth. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

Kellin smiled. “I could say the same for you.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“I do all the time.”

“Say it again.”

“Make me.”

Vic’s hands trailed down from Kellin’s neck, moving across his chest down to where Kellin’s too short shirt revealed skin above the waistband of his boxers.

“Tell me I’m cute,” Vic said quietly, fingers dipping below the elastic stretched across Kellin’s hips.

“Vic, I have to go to practice,” Kellin whispered.

“Tell me I’m cute,” Vic repeated, now pulling the boxers down, revealing small sparse hairs on Kellin’s lower stomach.

Kellin laughed quietly. “Shit, okay, okay, you’re cute, now get your hands out of my pants.”

Vic grinned, removing his hand and tugging on Kellin’s wrist. “I’ve got to get ready too.”

Kellin didn’t budge. He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “You need to take your meds before you go anywhere.”

Vic reached for Kellin’s hand once more and pulled, dragging Kellin along with him. “I’ll take them soon. Come on, I’ll blow you in the shower.”

***

“I want that one.”

Kellin smushed his finger against the glass, like a kid picking his ice cream in the summer, pressing against the counter, peering in to get a better look.

The man behind the counter smiled slightly, lips pressed thinly. He was thin, bald, and actually looked quite scary, with a fresh pressed suit and tie clasped with a fine-jeweled clip. He bent down, pulling the tray out from under the glass and laying it across the counter.

“Are you sure?” The man asked. He raised an eyebrow.

Jack loomed over his shoulder, getting a look. Kellin had begged him to come with him, pestering until he agreed, and here they were.

Kellin paused, then nodded. “I’m sure.”

“We have a wide selection, most of which you have not viewed. This design is so simple,” The man scoffed slightly. “From my experience, women often prefer-“

“I’m not buying it for a girl,” Kellin interrupted, dumbly speaking without looking at the man.

Jack placed a hand on his shoulder, rustling his coat. “Are you sure, man? What about the one that your mom-“

Kellin shook his head, feeling petulant. “I don’t want that one either. I want that one.”

The man behind the counter remained still, but Kellin could tell his patience was wearing thin. He smiled again, but it was strained. “You called to confirm your order and pick up. Is this the size you wanted?”

The man slid a form across the counter, scrawled in messy handwriting, ink spread slightly. Kellin scanned the page.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

The man nodded, and reached into his blazer, pulling out a pen. He handed it to Kellin. “Just sign here.”

Kellin scribbled a half-assed signature across the dotted line at the bottom of the page and returned it to the man, who nodded once more before opening a door and retreating to a room, closing it gently behind him.

Jack pulled in closer behind him, elbow bumping Kellin’s back as he leaned over to get another look. “Kellin, are you sure about this?”

Kellin snorted. “Dude, you can keep talking about time and shit, the answer is still yes.”

Jack turned away, running a hand through his hair. Jack almost always had Kellin’s best interest in mind, and Kellin knew that he was just trying to do what was best, but Kellin was sure. No matter how much convincing they did, Kellin was set.

“Look, dude, just – you sure about this? It’s barely been two years, man. I just don’t want –“

“You don’t want what?” Kellin snapped, voice hard, turning to face Jack.

Jack sighed. “Don’t want it to end up like last time.”

Kellin stared. “He isn’t Katelynne.”

“I know, I know it’s just,” Jack ran a hand over his chin, over stubble, then let his arms rest by his sides. “Just trying to look out for you, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kellin grumbled, slinging an arm around Jack’s waist. “Big brother and everything.”

The man re-emerged from behind the counter, corners of his lips raised slightly. Kellin smiled back, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

He was so happy.

 

Kellin grinned when he left the store, Jack setting the pace and walking beside him. The box in his pocket felt heavy as it clunked against his leg, though Kellin though that it just felt heavier due to its intent.

Kellin grinned when him and Jack got into Jack’s car (Vic had dropped Kellin off at Jack’s before driving to practice). He grinned the whole way back to his house, even though the muscles in his face began to hurt. He was just

Happy.

 

They drove silently, letting the radio fill the gaps between them, filling the silence with noise they did not create.

“Are you doing anything special for it?” Jack asked, not taking his eyes off the road, hands on 9 and 3.

“Your hands are supposed to be on 10 and 2, dude,” Kellin said, turning to look out on the window to his right.

Jack laughed and shifted his hands up along the steering wheel. “Aw, come on, Kellin, you can tell me.”

Kellin joined in with the laughter. It died out quite quickly though, and he reached into his pocket and took out the box, turning it between the thumbs and forefingers of both his hands.

“I’m taking him to that Spanish restaurant.”

“Fancy?”

“Fancy.”

Jack nodded. “Nice. You gonna do it there?”

Kellin shook his head. ‘No, I um.” He looked down at his lap, letting the box sit still between his legs. “I’m gonna take him back to the beach.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “You _always_ go there.”

“It’s a nice place! And besides, its where we had our first date.”

“Your first date was making out on some dirt road.”

Kellin snorted. “We were drunk, it doesn’t count. That wasn’t a date, anyway.”

Jack paused. He turned onto Kellin’s street, hands moving across the steering wheel and pulling into a park in front of the apartment building. Kellin unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned to open the car door.

“Wait, Kellin,” Jack said, stopping Kellin in his tracks.

“Yeah?” Kellin answered, eyers narrowing slightly, brow furrowing.

Jack sighed. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time. Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Kellin stressed. “My answer won’t change. I know what I’m doing.”

Jack nodded, and didn’t say anything.

“Thanks for the ride,” Kellin said, turning the handle and opening the door, stepping out onto the concrete.

“Kellin,” Jack called out again.

“Oh. My god,” Kellin fumed. “What?”

Kellin turned to look at him through the window of the car door. Jack broke into a smile. “Good luck.”

Kellin returned the smile and waved goodbye, turning back around and starting the climb to his floor.

 

“Red or blue?”

Kellin spoke out loud in the bedroom, standing shirtless in front of the mirror. He held up two hangers to his chest, two shirts. He frowned.

Vic had texted to say that he’d picked up clothing earlier to change into and wouldn’t be coming home, but instead would meet him at the restaurant, so Kellin was left alone in the apartment.

Since he’d returned, he’d walked over to a Whole Foods nearby and picked up their groceries, cleaned the house, made the bed, did their laundry, showered and now, here he was. Standing with black dress slacks that were a bit tight (they were probably Vic’s, but they shared a closet and it wasn’t like it really mattered anyway), black socks and even had his shoes on.

“Red or blue?” He asked again, as if his reflection would decide for him.

He looked hard, bringing the red shirt up, then the blue one. He sighed, then put the red one down, nodding. “Blue it is.”

Kellin slid the blue shirt onto his shoulders and buttoned from the bottom up, leaving a button or two undone at the top. He picked up a tie, a black one, and slung it around his shoulders. “Tie or no tie?”

Loud knocks on the door interrupted his train of thought. Startled, Kellin flinched and turned around. “No tie,” He said to the walls, shaking his head.

He walked out of the bedroom, grabbed the box from the kitchen counter and placed it in his pocket. He snatched his blazer from the back of the dining room chair and slid the blazer on. The knocks sounded again, louder and more frantic.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Kellin muttered, opening the door.

Jaime and Tony stood in the hall, hands in their pockets. Tony paced, but stopped and turned his head when the door opened.

“Guys? What are you, uh, doing here?” Kellin inquired.

Jaime pushed past him, and Tony followed, ceasing their walking in the living room.

Tony started pacing again, and Jaime turned to face Kellin as he closed the door. “Have you heard from Vic?”

Kellin felt worry grow in his gut. “Vic? No? I’m supposed to meet him for dinner in, uh,” Kellin paused to check his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

“He’s not here?” Tony quaked. He had stopped pacing again but now wrung his hands.

Kellin shook his head. “No, he isn’t. He said that he picked up his clothes earlier and was going to stay later to practice with you guys, then meet me at the restaurant.”

Tony swallowed loudly. “He left earlier to get his stuff, and came back, but he left like an hour ago.”

“Did you check your voicemail?” Jaime asked.

Kellin felt the worry metastasize, spread to his chest and forehead, brow creasing and mouth turning down. “No? My phones out of battery.”

Jaime made a noise of distress and Kellin moved quickly, pushing past them and back into the bedroom, snatching his phone up from the bedside table and hastily plugging it into the wall charger.

“Come on, come on, come on,” He muttered, waiting for the phone to reboot.

The screen finally flashed and the phone turned back on, though still slow. Kellin heard Tony and Jaime enter the room, though he did not turn to look at them.

Sure enough, when the phone had loaded, he had a new message. Kellin looked up at them with worry, then back down to his phone. He put the phone on speaker and pressed play.

_Hey, um, hey uh Kellin. It’s – it’s me, Vic. I mean, uh, of course its me, caller ID and everything._ Vic’s voice shook as he laughed through the receiver, though it was clear that he was not happy. _Kellin, I’m so sorry. I, I can’t do this. My dad, Mike. Everything. It’s, oh god Kellin, it’s too much. I love you so, so much, but I can’t live without them. You’re the light of my life, but I just – I can’t, oh god Kellin, I’m so sorry I -_

The voicemail cut off.

“Oh my god,” Kellin susurrated. “Oh my god, oh my god.” He stumbled over to the dresser where he, oh fuck, where he left the keys this morning, but, _fuck_ Vic drove. Vic had the keys.

“No, no, no no.” Kellin bent down to the bottom drawer, the one with a lock, and pulled. It gave easily. “No, no, no no nonononono.”

“What? What is it?” Tony demanded, kneeling down beside him.

“The, the drawer its, fuck, it’s empty.”

“What was in it?”

“His pills, and, fuck.”

“What else?” Jaime joined.

Kellin buried his head in his hands.

“Kellin?”

Kellin turned to face them, wiping at under his eyes. Even though he wasn’t crying yet, he felt like he was going to. “The gun.”

Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose, and Tony stood up and pulled Kellin with him.

“We’re going to look for him, we have to,” Kellin whispered, clinging onto Tony’s jacket, desperate.

“Yeah, yeah, lets go,” Tony replied.

 

Jaime knew where to go.

He drove fast; Kellin had to cling on to the door for safety. He ran red lights and swerved past corners. Kellin was scared Jaime was going to hit someone, but to his relief, he didn’t.

When they reached the shore, Tony and Kellin didn’t even wait for Jaime to come to a complete stop before opening their doors and sprinting as fast as they could onto the wooden docks.

“I can’t see shit,” Tony remarked, leaning forward.

The moon wasn’t full, but it was nearly there, give or take a few days. It shone bright enough to shine silver white ripples across the waves, illuminating the beach enough to make out a silhouetted figure standing on the beach.

“Vic!” Kellin screamed.

The figure turned.

A loud bang sounded.

The figure crumpled.

“VIC!” Kellin shrieked, jumping off of the docks onto the sand, stumbling and falling to his knees, tripping over his own feet to get up. He ran as well as he could, sand pulling him back, like it didn’t want Kellin to reach him, to save him, to get to him. Kellin couldn’t think of anything else. His mind was a constant mantra of _vicvicvicvicvicvicvic_

When Kellin reached him, Vic was sprawled across the sand, dim moonlight softly shining on a spreading red. Vic coughed, but didn’t move besides that, didn’t say anything.

On the top of the docks, Jaime and Tony watched.

“Get some fucking help!” Kellin yelled at them, screamed, never having felt more desperate in his life. They stared for a second more, then bolted, both sprinting back down the docks towards the car.

“Vic, shit,” Kellin whispered. He reached for Vic’s back, trying to get an arm by his shoulders, another under his legs. Vic cried out.

“Shh, sorry, we’re gonna, fuck, we’re gonna get you some help, okay Vic?”

Kellin stood up, Vic in his arms, feeling like he was about to burst. Kellin moved as fast as he could, doing his best to not hurt Vic in the process. In his haste, Kellin tripped over his own feet and staggered with the extra weight, his nervousness making him shake. He fell into the sand, Vic’s breathing shallow and groaning with pain.

“Kellin?” Vic breathed, a noise so quiet Kellin barely heard it.

Kellin cradled Vic’s head, bringing it up onto his lap. “Hey, baby.”

“I’m,” Vic coughed. “I’m sorry, fuck.”

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s – it’s gonna be okay. Tony and,” Kellin stammered. “Tony and Jaime are going to get you help. You’re gonna be okay.”

Vic shook his head and looked away from Kellin, his long hair dragging strands of blood across his face.

With his neck tilted back, Kellin could see the wound clearly now. It was through his neck, an almost circle, but not quite, like instead of a hole it made a crater in his skin. The blood trickled down his collarbone and onto his shirt.

“You missed,” Kellin’s voice trembled.

Vic turned back to him, eyes half lidded and nearly closed. He smiled slightly, but it broke when he coughed.

“I, I was gonna do it, do it right,” Vic coughed out. “But I heard you and I turned when I shot.”

Kellin bent down and pressed a kiss to Vic’s forehead and started to cry, thick sobs forming at the back of his throat, tears leaking like someone in heaven left the faucet running.

“I’m sorry,” Kellin sobbed into Vic’s neck. “I don’t know what I – I did but, Vic, oh god, I’m sorry.”

Kellin pulled back and saw that Vic was crying too. Kellin pulled off his blazer and pressed it to Vic’s neck in a feeble attempt to stop the blood. Vic moaned when the fabric touched his skin.

“No, Kellin, I’m, I’m sorry.”

Kellin shook his head. “You got nothing to be sorry about.”

Vic’s eyes were nearly closed now and his breathing grew shallower. He smiled, despite his situation. “Kellin?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you kiss me?”

“Yeah, I – yeah of course.”

Kellin leaned down and pressed his lips against Vic’s. It wasn’t much of a kiss, but Kellin held on. Vic kissed back, chastely, and Kellin was scared that when he pulled back, Vic would be dead.

At this point, Kellin couldn’t stop crying. He choked on his own sobs, a mess of tears and snot and someone else’s blood.

“We’re gonna – fuck, we’re gonna get you help, you’re gonna be okay,” Kellin said, but it felt more like a prayer than anything.

“Kel?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t go?”

Kellin smiled and took Vic’s hands in his own. He sniffed back snot and tears. “Not going anywhere. Gonna stay right here.”

“I’m sorry I ruined our dinner plans.”

Kellin laughed. “It’s – it’s okay. Oh, wait – shit.”

Releasing Vic’s hands, Kellin reached into his pockets and pulled out the box, soft velvet against his fingertips. He opened it and took the ring out, liked the soft glisten it made in the dim light, barely reading out the inscription on the inside that read _forever is all that I need._

“Vic,” Kellin choked. “Vic, will you marry me?”

Vic laughed slightly, softly, then coughed. “Yeah, of course. Is this what was gonna happen tonight?”

Kellin slid the ring on Vic’s fingers, staining the gold with blood. He nodded, and held his hand, sobs resuming.

They stayed silent for a while, a few minutes at most, Kellin pressing kisses to Vic’s hands and wrists, smoothing his hair back from his head.

Vic broke the silence first.

“Hey,” he whispered. His eyes were closed.

“Hey,” Kellin whispered back.

“Don’t,” Vic muttered. “Don’t be like that.”

Vic took a hand out of Kellin’s and placed it on Kellin’s cheek, wiping away his tears and drawing a pattern with his blood. Kellin wept, holding Vic’s hand against his cheek.

“Can you tell my mom that I love her and that I’m sorry and – “

“Don’t talk like that. We’re, we’re getting you help okay? Jaime and Tony will be back any minute.”

“Kellin,” Vic said, voice slightly stronger, his eyes open slightly. “I love you.”

Kellin shook his head. “I love you too.”

“These past,” Vic coughed. “These past years with you have been my best, and I – fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I love you, I love you, they’re coming soon okay, you’ll be okay,” Kellin was babbling now, saying whatever came to his mind, anything, just hoping that they’d be enough for Vic to stay.

“Can you kiss me again?”

Kellin nodded. He kissed his hands, the backs of his knuckles, his pals, his wrists. He kissed his nose, his forehead, his cheek, and finally Vic’s lips, tasting blood and tracing himself on the roofs of Vic’s mouth, mapping it out once more.

When he pulled back, Vic was limp. His eyes were closed. His chest didn’t rise and fall.

An ambulance sounded in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not the final chapter !! next chapter is the last chapter. be free


	9. To Find An Ending In A Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. Was this a good run ? Hope it was okay.

_Kellin wiped his eyes with his sleeve before continuing. “Vic – Victor Fuentes is dead.”_

 

A pile of clothes were folded on the coffee table.

Kellin never moved them. He didn’t even pick them up. He didn’t want to. He never wanted to see anything like them. Blood stained and covered in sand and salt.

Bottles littered the apartment. Any and all that he could find. Vodka, rum, whiskey, beer, wine. All of it.

People came. They left their apologies like it made a difference. People only apologized about death because they didn’t know what else to say.

When people came, they left their sorrows with them, piling it up at the door. Person after person saying the same two words, leaving food and gifts as a condolence. Kellin didn’t want any of it.

He wanted Vic back.

He didn’t eat. The casseroles delivered were stacked in the kitchen. Matty came over sometimes, as did the rest of the band, trying to make Kellin eat. He did when they were here, but it never stayed down. Alcohol and food is not always the best combination.

Besides his re-found alcoholism, Kellin never left the bedroom unless it was necessary. He buried himself in the duvet, slept on Vic’s side, in his clothing. He hugged the pillow Vic used, took in how things developed his smell. He held on to what remained of Vic in the apartment; the Cornholio mug (chipped as it is), the papers strewn across the study, finished and unfinished lyrics, the way he never remembered to open or close the curtains.

Kellin often found himself calling out to him. Yelling, ‘you forgot to close the curtains, again’, ‘can you make me coffee?’, ‘clean up your fucking papers, Vic’.

Everyone talks about death as this thing where people just grieve. They talk about the sadness of it, the pain. Nobody ever talks about absence. About how _hard_ it is to continue because the things you used to do everyday involved them.

Now, Kellin wastes in the bedroom, talking out loud and hoping for a response. Wearing Vic’s clothing as if the smell would bring him closer. He paid for Vic’s phone service. He kept the phone on the bed and called it whenever he needed to hear Vic’s voice, even if it was just the _Hey, it’s Vic, I’m uh, not here right now but if you leave a cool message I’ll get back to you_. Kellin never left a message.

 

Kellin stared at the pile of clothes folded on the coffee table.

He never touched Vic’s things, wanting to leave a part of his messiness everywhere. He needed to keep parts of him everywhere, even if he broke down crying. He didn’t want Vic to leave him, ever, even if the thought of him sent him sobbing down the throat of a bottle.

But the clothes were Vic’s, and he could still pretend Vic was here if he did Vic’s laundry. Just fold them and put them back with the other clothes, and they’d smell like him too.

Kellin took the laundry basket and put Vic’s clothes in it and stepped out of the apartment, walking over to the elevator. He sighed and pressed the down button, and waited.

The elevator rang shortly, and Kellin stepped in. Another person was in the elevator, a man about Kellin’s age, with dark skin and dreadlocks, called Jimmy. Kellin knew him vaguely, knew he lived about two or three floors above him. He only ever saw him when they did laundry, and they talked. He was really cool with a great music taste. He was a CEO of some company, but Kellin didn’t really know much about it.

“You okay? You look like a wreck,” Jimmy implored.

Kellin supposed he did. Wearing one of Vic’s tank tops, in Vic’s bathrobe, in Vic’s sweatpants. Kellin couldn’t remember the last time he showered or shaved, and he didn’t really think that the amount of alcohol he consumed made him smell better.

“Yeah, uh, I’m okay.”

“What’s up? How’s Vic?”

Kellin hesitated. “Oh, I thought you knew.”

Jimmy looked at him strange. “Oh, shit dude, did you two break up?”

The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival at the basement and they both stepped out. Kellin put his basket down beside a washing machine and started to sort through it.

“Dude, are those bloodstains?” Jimmy asked, looking over at Kellin, worry etched into every part of his face.

Kellin dropped the cloth like it burned him.

“Uh, Jimmy. Vic and I, uh. We didn’t break up. Um,” Kellin felt like he was going to start crying again, and it sounded like he was, voice strained with holding back sobs. “About a week ago, Vic, uh, he,” Kellin sniffled. “He died.”

“Oh,” Jimmy said quietly. “Oh, I, I’m sorry, shit.”

Kellin nodded. “It’s okay.”

They remained in an awkward silence after that. Kellin unfolded the clothing, placed the shirt, the hoodie, the boxers in. He fiddled with the pants, turning them inside-in. He shook them, and a piece of paper fell from the pocket onto his lap.

Kellin tucked it into his bathrobe, placed the pants in the washing machine, and started it, using warm water and hoping that it would wash the blood out. He bid Jimmy a farewell and retreated back to the apartment.

When Kellin returned, he immediately went back into the bedroom, shutting the door and taking a swig of whatever was in the glass on the bedside table. The gun, having been returned to him, remained there too, recently fired but besides that not having been touched.

Kellin pressed his back against the closed door and took out the piece of paper. It was folded greatly, creased and worn. He unfolded it.

Kellin covered his mouth in his grief.

_Dear Kellin,_

_I’m sorry._

Kellin sank to his knees, back hard against the door as support, for his legs could not hold him when he started to read. He trembled, turned away and started to cry again. He breathed deeply, sighing, before continuing to read.

_The only reason you’re seeing this is because I’m dead. Which, yeah, obvious. I owe you an explanation though._

_I didn’t have this planned. I didn’t. I knew it was going to happen but I didn’t know when._

_It’s this thing, Kel. First it was me. It started with me. Me being the piece of shit I was imperfect, disgusting, gross. Ugly._

_Then my dad started getting bad and with all our expenses it just wasn’t working. I couldn’t help. God, I’m such a fuck up. He died because I couldn’t earn enough to save him._

_Then it was Mike. Mike with his stupid addiction which I was so angry about but didn’t fucking think about how dad’s death was affecting him. When he almost died, I nearly lost it. I was going to do it then, I think. I was such a fucking mess._

_Then you came along. You with your niceness and voice and just being a fucking charm. I fell immediately, to be honest._

_But then that night, with you drinking and me drinking and everything and we kissed and I was so scared that I fucked this all up. But you came back and that night, that first date. So fucking magical._

_When I caught you shooting up, I flipped. You know why now. I didn’t want another thing like Mike. I couldn’t see that happen to you. If it did, I’d die. I’d be my fault._

_And then you found out about me. And I flipped shit about it but you – you cared so much about me. You kissed my scars and told me I was beautiful. No one ever told me I was beautiful._

_I got better because of you. Everything good in my life was because of you. It started there. Me getting better._

_But then shit happened. I relapsed, Mike was back in hospital. I felt like I was at a dead end. Then, Mike died. I couldn’t handle it. First my dad and then Mike. I lost so many people. Mike meant so fucking much to me, he was my baby brother. I needed him there. And now he wasn’t there. I needed my dad, and he wasn’t there. Everyone I loved was dying, and it was my fault._

_Please understand, Kellin, that none of this has anything to do with you. I love you, so, so much. More than anything. More than the earth itself. You are my sun and moon and stars. You gave me a fucking reason to live._

_The thing is, I’m, disgusting. Everything I touch dies. Everything I love dies. I couldn’t wait for it to happen to Jaime, to Tony, to my mom. Not to you either._

_I’m gross, disgusting. A fucking parasite. You’ll be better off without me._

_You’ll be okay._

_Forever,_  
 _Vic._

Kellin choked, sobbed. He cried out, calling Vic’s name, screaming. He stumbled onto his knees, crawled towards the bed, reaching to the bedside table. He reached for the glass, hands shaking and knocked it over, the glass shattering and shards piercing his knees and arms and hands. He whimpered and blindly reached again.

Kellin cocked the gun, placed it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or something if you liked it please! I'm thinking of writing more stuff (with different pairings but yeah) with better writing (hopefully). I've got a few in the making so ~


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